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BY 

MRS.   ALEXANDER 


CHICAGO 
W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY 


BV  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 
IN  UNIFORM  STYLE 


ADMIRALS  WARD 
AT  BAY 

BEATON'S  BARGAIN 
BY  WOMAN'S  WIT 
CROOKED  PATH,   THE 
FRERES,   THE 
FORGING  THE  FETTERS 
HERITAGE  OF  LANGDALE 
MAID,   WIFE  OR  WIDOW 
MAMMON 
SECOND  LIFE,  A 
WHICH  SHALL  IT  BEf 


CHICAGO 

W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY 


AT    iJAY, 

■  ■)■    r. 

CHAPTER  I 

STRIKINa   THE   TRAIL. 

Paris  on  h,  bright  April  morning.  Can  any  city  make  a 
brighter,  braver  show  under  a  clear  blue  sky  and  a  bril- 
liant sun,  the  chestnuts  in  the  Champs  Ely  sees  and  Tuil- 
eries  gardens  bursting  into  bloom,  the  flower-market  of 
the  Madeleine  a  mass  of  color,  exhaling  delicious  perfume, 
the  fair  purchasers  in  the  first  freshness  of  their  spring 
attire,  the  tide  of  business  and  of  pleasure  at  the  fullest 
flood.  It  is  a  sight  to  fill  any  heart  tolerably  free  from 
pressing  anxiety  with  an  irresistible  sense  of  youth. 

Though  the  month  was  still  young,  the  weather  was 
warm  enough  to  make  open  windows  an  agreeable  ad- 
dition to  the  comfort  of  a  pretty  little  salon  in  the  entresol 
of  Meurice's  hotel,  where  an  elderly  lady  was  seated  at  a 
table  on  which  a  dainty  dejeuner,  and  a  couple  of  bottles, 
inscribed  respectively  "Moselle"  and  "Pomard,"  was  laid 
out. 

She  was  not  handsome,  never  could  have  been  hand- 
some, her  face  was  broad  »nd  strong,  with  small  twinkling 
black  eyes,  and  a  heavy  jaw.  Her  figure  still  showed 
traces  of  the  sjTnmetry  for  which  she  had  been  remarkable, 
and  the  hand  she  had  stretched  out  to  take  another  oyster, 
was  fine  both  in  shape  and  color.  Her  rich  black  silk 
dress,  the  lace  c^  her  cap,  the  jewels  on  hsr  fingers,  all  her 
surroundings  indicated  wealth, — her  expression,  comfort- 
able self-satisfaction. 

She  finished  her  oyster  with  an  air  of  enjoyment,  and 
then  looking  at  her  watch,  murmured  "  he  is  late  " — as  she 
spoke,  the  door  was  opened,  and  a  waiter  announced  "  M. 
Glynn." 


2135991 


4  AT  BAT. 

The  visitor  was  a  tall,  broad-shoiildered  man,  of  perhaps 
thirty-five  or  more,  with  very  dark  hair,  eyes,  and  com- 
plexion, well  dressed  and  easy  in  his  bearing  and  move- 
ments, yet  not  looking  quite  like  a  club  or  a  drawing- 
room  man. 

"  This  is  not  your  usual  punctuaUty,  Hugh,"  said  the 
lady  smiling  benignly,  as  she  stretched  out  a  welcoming 
hand,  "  but  you  make  your  own  punishment  1  Time,  tide, 
and  vol  au  vents,  wait  for  no  man." 

"  I  have  a  thousand  apologies  to  make  !  You  may  be 
sure  the  delay  was  unavoidable  or  I  should  not  have  kept 
you  waiting." 

"But  I  have  not  waited!  Take  some  oysters — and 
then  tell  me  what  has  kept  you,  if  it  is  a  discreet  ques- 
tion." 

"Perfectly.  No  oysters,  thank  you.  Do  not  let  me 
delay  the  routine  of  your  dejeune.  Just  as  I  was  leaving 
the  *  Bourse,'  I  ran  against  Deering  of  Denham,  who  in- 
sisted on  walking  almost  to  the  door  with  me." 

"  Travers  Deering  ?  I  did  not  know  he  was  in  Paris. 
Is  Lady  Frances  with  him  ?  " 

"  She  is,  for  he  honored  me  with  an  invitation  to  dinner 
to-morrow,  mentioning  that  Lady  Frances  would  be  very 
glad  to  see  me.  I  was  engaged,  however  ;  I  don't  find 
dining  with  Travers  Deering  a  cheerful  occupation. 
Thoiigh  Lady  Frances  keeps  a  brave  front  there  is  a  pro- 
found sadness  in  her  eyes,  or  I  fancy  there  is." 

"  Fancy !  yes  ;  I  susjiect  your  fancy  is  tolerably  vivid 
stiU.  Now  eat  your  luncheon,  and  we  wiU  talk  presently.'* 
She  proceeded  to  press  various  dainties  on  her  guest,  who 
ate  moderately. 

"  I  don't  think  you  care  for  good  things  as  much  as  I 
do,"  said  the  hostess,  leaning  back  in  her  chair  ;  "  I  am 
always  vexed  with  people  v/ho  don't  care  what  they  eat  ; 
it  shows  deficiency  of  brain  power.  Now  tell  me, — have 
you  succeeded  this  morning  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  returned  with  a  smile,  as  he  poured  out 
another  half-glass  of  Pomard  ;  "I  have  disposed  of  all 
your  Honduras  shares,  not  at  par,  but  at  a  trifling  de- 
crease. Here,"  drawing  out  his  pocket-book,  "  are  billa 
and  notes  to  the  amount  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds.  T 
am  glad  you  are  out  of  the  concern,  you  might  have  lost 


STEIKING   THE   TRAIL.  5 

double  the  amount ;  pray  avoid  these  foreign  bubble 
companies  in  future,  none  of  them  are  to  be  trusted, 
Lady  Gethin, — none  that  offer  high  interest  are." 

"  My  dear  Hugh,  I  never  will  do  anything  without  your 
advice  again  ;  I  have  had  a  perfect  nightmare  about  these 
horrid  things.  I  am  no  miser,  but  I  hate  to  lose  money  ; 
I  am  very  glad  you  managed  to  get  rid  of  these  shares  so 
soon,  for  I  want  to  go  back  to  London  to-morrow ;  the 
rooms  I  have  had  altered  in  that  old  house  of  mine,  are 
ready,  I  am  dying  to  furnish  them." 

"  Well,  you  had  better  post  this  money  to  your  bankers, 
and  register  your  letter,  than  carry  it  about  with  you." 

"  Yes,  it  would  be  the  best  plan.  Shall  you  stay  here 
much  longer  ?  " 

"  Some  httle  time  ;  I  have  a  special  mission  to  execute 
for  the  House,  which  may  keep  me  a  few  weeks." 

"  Be  sure  you  come  and  see  me  directly  you  return  ; 
and  do  go  and  see  Lady  Frances  Deering,  she  would  be  a 
charming  woman  if  she  let  herself  go.  I  was  always 
interested  in  her.  Why  can't  she  get  on  with  Deering? 
he  is  good-looking,  well  bred,  well  thought  of,  and  not 
very  much  older  than  herself." 

"  Perhaps  she  does  get  on  with  him,"  -said  Glynn. 

"  I  used  not  to  care  for  Deering,"  replied  Lady  Gethin. 
"  He  had  a  quarrel  with  a  cousin  whom  I  hked  very  much, 
and  who  was  killed  afterwards,  poor  feUow.  I  have  for- 
gotten what  the  quarrel  was  about — a  woman,  I  think,  and 
I  have  an  idea  Travers  behaved  badly  ;  but  he  is  quite  an 
irreproachable  personage  no?/;,  and  monstrously  civil  to 
me,  especially  since  poor  dear  Sir  Peter  bequeathed  me 
all  his  real  and  personal  property.  Then,  you  know,  we 
are  second  cousins,  two  or  three  times  removed." 

"  Oh  indeed !  Well,  he  is  very  civil  to  me  too,  and  I 
am  certainly  no  relation  but " 

"Aha!  you  are  dearer  than  kith  or  kin,"  interrupted 
Lady  Gethin  ;  "  you  can  give  him  financial  tips,  and 
chances  of  turning,  I  won't  say  an  honest  penny,  but 
simple  hundreds  into  splendid  thousands  by  the  varied 
sources  of  information  you  command.  Ah !  were  I  a  man, 
I  should  like  to  be  a  financier,  which  is  '  high  falutin '  for 
gtock-broker." 

Glynn  smiled.    "I  have  had  very  few  buoiness  trans- 


6  AT  BAY. 

actions  ^vtth  Deering,  or  for  him.  He  is  wealthy  enough 
without  help  from  any  one.  By  the  way,  he  is  more 
inflammable  than  I  imagined  ;  we  were  at  the  Auteuil 
races  together  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  when  saun- 
tering about  we  were  both  struck  by  a  girl  who  was  in  an 
■  open  carriage  with  two  other  ladies  ;  she  was  certainly 
pretty — more  than  pretty — and  Deering  seemed  quite 
fascinated,  he  could  not  keep  away.  It  was  not  like  his 
usual  cool,  high-bred  indifference  to  all  mundane  tilings, 
to  go  back  again  and  again  to  stare  at  the  young  lady, 
for  you  know  he  is  rather  a  decent  fellow  as  men  go." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  cried  Lady  Gethin,  with  keen 
interest.    "  What  would  Lady  Frances  have  said  ?  " 

"  The  last  time  we  went  to'^look  at  the  bright  particular 
star,  she  and  her  party  had  left  their  cai-riage,"  contiuued 
Glynn.  *'  Deering  then  seemed  to  pull  himself  together, 
and  to  remember  he  was  not  alone  ;  but  I  could  see  he 
was  desperately  vexed  to  have  lost  sight  of  her,  though 
he  tried  to  laugh  at  himself,  and  said  she  was  wonder- 
fully like  some  one  he  used  to  know.  I  was  both  surprised 
and  amused  by  his  manoeuvres.-  I  left  him  before  the 
last  race,  and  I  rather  fancy  he  was  going  to  renew  his 
SGJircli  for  iiGr.  * 

"  Ah !  "  said  Lady  Getliin  ;  "no  doubt,  thereby  hangs  a 

taJe." 

"  Perhaps  so.  The  young  \&dy,  however,  is  very  young- 
little  more  than  seventeen  or  eighteen,  and  she  certainly 
did  not  recognize  him — nor  even  notice  him." 

"  The  wisest  have  their  weak  moments,"  observed  Lady 
Gethin,  with  an  air  of  wisdom.  "  I  certainly  have  never 
heard  any  queer  stories  about  Deering.  Did  you  see  any 
one  else  you  knew  at  Auteuil  ?  " 

"  A  few  second-rate  racing  men,  and  George  Verner." 

"  Oh,  he  generally  haunts  the  Deerings  when  he  is  not 
at  sea."  After  a  good  deal  more  talk,  partly  business, 
partly  wittily  told  scandal,  Glynn  rose  to  take  leave.  "  I 
dine  at  the  Cafe  de  Florence  to-day,  with  Captain  Methvm 
and  Madame  Gauthier  ;  will  you  join  us  ?  " 

"  I  am  unfortunately  already  engaged  ;  so  must  forego 
that  pleasm-e,"  said  Glynn. 

"  I  shall  see  you  then  as  soon  as  you  return  to  London, 
ftndbe  sure  you  tell  me  anjihing  fresh  about  the  Deerings." 


STBIKLNG   THE  TRAIL.  .    7 

"I  don't  fancy  there  will  be  any  exciting  esclandre  in 
that  quarter.  If  the  weather  continues  as  fine  as  it  has 
been  for  the  last  few  days,  you  wiU  have  a  pleasant  jour- 
ney.    Good-morning,  Lady  Gethin." 

"When  Glynn  left  the  hotel  he  walked  briskly  for  a  few 
minutes  towards  the  Louvre,  then  he  gradually  relaxed  his 
pace,  .  :;  his  thoughts  disengaged  themselves  from  his  sur- 
roundings, and  presented  him  with  a  picture  they  had 
frequently  mirrored  during  the  last  three  days. 

After  making  a  few  purchases  at  the  bookstalls  of  the 
Palais  Boyal,  he  made  lus  way  down  the  Rue  St.  Honore, 
finally  coming  to  a  halt  at  the  crowded  crossing  opposite 
the  Madeleine,  where  the  contrary  currents  coming  from 
the  Boulevards,  meet  the  tributary  tide  of  the  Rue  Royale. 
He  was  in  no  hurry  ;  it  amused  him  to  see  the  huge  omni- 
buses disgorging  their  contents ;  to  watch  eager  women 
with  parcels,  and  refractory  children  tightly  held  by  the 
hand,  make  ineffectual  dashc:;  at  the  opposite  shore,  and 
come  scurrjang  back  again,  baffledo  but  still  resolute.  To 
observe  the  little  flower-girls  plying  their  trade,  and  hear 
the  sharp  bargaining  between  them  and  their  customers 

Suddenly,  however,  his  eyes  brightened  ;  the  expression 
of  a  lazy  looker-on  vanished,  and  was  replaced  by  one  of 
keen,  vivid  interest,  as  his  glance  fell  on  the  original  of 
the  picture  which  had  haunted  him  since  the  day  of  the 
races  at  AuteuiL  A  sHght  girlish  figure,  in  a  pale  gray 
dress  ;  a  mantlet  or  scarf,  edged  with  black  lace,  drawn 
closely  round  her  ;  she  was  crowned  by  a  pretty  little  hat, 
also  bordered  with  black  lace,  and  adorned  with  a  large 
bouquet  of  primroses  and  tufts  of  naiTow  black  velvet 
ribbon.  Under  the  hat  beamed  a  pair  of  thoughtful, 
earnest,  dark-blue  eyes — large  and  lustrous  ;  eyes  that 
none  could  pass  unnoticed ;  long  lashes ;  distinct,  but 
dehcate  eyebrows  ;  a  clear,  pale  complexion  ;  a  sweet 
though  not  very  small  mouth,  and  abundant  Ught  golden- 
brown  hair,  made  up  a  whole  that  might  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  even  a  more  "  potent,  grave,  and  reverend 
Signor  "  than  Travers  Peering  of  Denham. 

This  was  the  face  and  figure  that  had  dwelt  in  Hugh 
Glynn's  imagination  since  he  had  first  seen  them.  In  any 
case  he  must  have  noticed  so  fair  a  girl ;  but  there  was 
something  in  the  effect  she  produced  on  Peering,  that 


8  AT   BAY. 

impressed  Tn'm  with  a  curious  sense  of  interest  and  un- 
easiness. 

He  had  laughed  at  his  own  condition  of  mind,  as  a  silly 
after-glow  of  boyish  folly,  unworthy  his  experience  and 
maturity.  Yet  there  was  a  wonderful  charm  in  the  soft 
grace  of  her  quiet  movements,  and,  accustomed  as  he  had 
been  to  women  who  rarely  stirred  out  unattended,  he 
looked  round  to  ascertain  if  this  deUcate,  refined  creature 
had  no  companion,  no  bonne  or  chaperon.  No !  she  was 
quite  alone.  Three  times,  while  he  watched  her,  she 
attempted  to  cross  the  street,  and  three  times  she  return- 
ed baffled.  Glynn  could  not  lose  such  a  chance  ;  advanc- 
ing to  her  side,  he  raised  his  hat  and  said,  with  grave 
politeness : 

"  There  is  an  unusual  crowd  ;  will  you  allow  me  to  see 
you  safely  to  the  other  side  ?  " 

She  raised  her  wondei*f ul  eyes  to  his  with  a  slightly 
startled,  but  frank  expression. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  simply,  in  exactly  the  low  clear  tones 
that  might  be  expected  from  her.     "  I  shall  be  very  glad." 

"  Keep  close  to  me,"  returned  Glynn,  and  seizing  a  luU 
in  the  traffic,  he  piloted  her  to  the  pavement  in  front  of 
the  Madeleine. 

"  The  reason  of  the  strongest  is  always  the  best,"  she 
said,  quoting  La  Fontaine  aptly  in  his  own  language.  "  I 
should  never  have  had  resolution  to  seize  tiiat  oppor- 
tunity." 

"  I  think  I  speak  to  a  countrywoman,"  remarked  Glynn. 

"  Yes,  I  consider  myself  Enghsh.  I  am  very  much 
obliged.  Good-morning."  This  decidedly,  though  po- 
litely. 

Glynn  felt  himself  obliged  to  relinquish  an  eagerly- 
formed  intention  of  drawing  her  into  conversation.  He 
could  not  thrust  himself  upon  a  lady,  and  he  felt  strongly 
disposed  to  believe  that  his  new  acquaintance  was  thor- 
oughly a  lady,  though  a  knowledge  of  hfe  in  most  Euro- 
pean capitals  disposed  him  to  suspend  his  judgment  He 
followed  her  at  a  Httle  distance  as  she  threaded  her  way 
through  the  booths  which  shelter  the  flower-seUers  and 
their  fragrant  wares,  till  she  reached  one  where  she  was 
apparently  greeted  as  a  regular  customer  by  its  wrinkled 
owner.    Then  with  a  certain  de^ee  of  contempt  for  his 


STRIKING   THE   TKAJL.  9 

own  weakness  he  turned  resolutely  away,  and  walked  down 
the  new  Boulevard  Maleslierbes. 

He  bad  not  gone  far,  when  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  figure  advancing  with  a  somewhat  slouching  gait  to- 
wards him,  a  man  of  scarcely  middle  height,  but  broadly 
and  strongly  built,  well,  though  rather  showily,  dressed, 
his  trousers  tight  below  the  knee,  and  loose  above,  his  cut- 
away coat,  bright-colored  necktie,  and  low-crowned  hat, 
had  a  horsey  aspect ;  a  broad,  sun-burnt  face,  with  weU- 
trimmed,  but  coarse,  red  moustaches  and  hair,  a  blunt, 
resolute  nose,  sharp,  light  eyes,  the  lids  puckered,  as  if 
from  trying  to  look  at  strong  sunlight,  gave  him  an  air  of 
intense  knowingness  ;  aU  these  seemed  somewhat  familiar 
to  Grlynn,  as  was  also  a  certain  expression  of  lazy  good- 
nature, which  softened  the  ruggedness  of  his  aspect. 

While  Glynn  was  struggling  to  answ^er  the  question 
with  which  we  have  all  puzzled  oui'selves  at  one  time  or 
another — "  Where  have  I  seen  that  face  ?  " — its  owner 
stopped  suddenly  before  him,  exclaiming,  "  Mr.  Glynn !  if 
I  am  not  greatly  mistaken  ;  I  hope  I  see  you  weU,  sir." 

The  voice  and  accent,  which  were  peculiar,  neither 
French,  nor  English,  nor  American,  though  a  little  of  all, 
with  an  undertone  of  something  that  was  none  of  the 
three,  brought  back  to  Glynn,  as  by  magic,  certain  pas- 
sages of  his  life  ten  years  before — a  big,  crowded,  gam- 
bling saloon  in  the  Far  West,  dim  with  tobacco  smoke, 
and  hot  with  gas-lights,  reeking  with  the  fumes  of  strong 
drink,  and  echoing  with  the  din  of  strange  oaths,  suddenly 
rose  from  out  the  caverns  of  memory,  a  confusion  of 
struggling  figures,  a  hand-to-hand  conflict,  the  man  before 
him  gallantly  backing  him  in  a  desperate  fight  to  reach 
%e  door. 

"  Mr.  Merrick,  I  had  no  idea  you  were  at  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic ! " 

"  I  have  been  more  than  once  at  this  side  of  the  Atlantic 
since  we  met  last.  You  know  all  good  Yankees  hope  to  go 
to  Paris  not  only  when  they  die,  but  a  considerable  few 
times  before  that  event.  I'm  right  glad  to  meet  you  ;  and, 
before  going  further,  I  beg  to  observe  that  I  have  assum- 
ed "  (he  said  "  ashumed  ")  "  another  name  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  :  .or  rather,  I  have  reverted  to  my 
original  patronymic,  which  was  a  deuced  deal  too  good  for 


10  AT  BAT. 

the  raff  amongst  whom  we  were  temporarily  engulfed,  to 
mouth.  Allow  me  " — with  an  elegant  air  he  drew  forth  a 
note-book,  and  presented  a  card  engraved,  "  Captain  Lam- 
bert, U.S.C.,  27  Rue  de  L'eveque."  "  Times  have  changed 
for  the  better  with  me,  and  I  am  now  estabhshed  here 
permanently." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it.  Captain  Lambert,"  said  Glynn,  amus- 
ed by  the  rencontre.  Then  glancing  at  the  card,  "  You 
are  no  longer  on  active  service  ?  " 

"  No,  in  a  sense,  no.  Life  is  always  more  or  less  a  bat- 
tle ;  but  for  the  present  the  bugles  sing  truce,  and  I  am 
enjoying  well-earned  rest  in  the  society  of  my  daughter 
and  only  child,  to  whom  I  shall  be  delighted  to  introduce 
an  esteemed  comrade,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so." 

"  You  are  very  good !  I  shall  be  happy  to  make  the 
young  lady's  acquaintance." 

"  And  yourself,  sir '?  I  fancy  you  have  been  looking  up 
too,  there's  an  air  of  success,  of  soHd  respectabihty,  eh  ? 
worthy  of  a  churchwarden,  about  you !  " 

"  Yes,  I  may  say  I  am  now  a  sober  citizen  of  famous 
London " 

"  I  believe  j^ou,  and  I  am  right  glad  to  hear  it.  I  shall 
yet  salute  you  as  Lord  Mayor  of  London.  '  Turn  again 
Whittington,'  hey  ?  Where  do  you  put  up  ?  I'll  caU  and 
get  you  to  fix  a  day  to  dine  with  us,  but  for  the  present  I 
must  bid  you  good-morning,  for  I  promised  to  meet  my 
daughter  at  the  flower-market,  and  I  never  keep  her  wait- 
ing.    Eh !  by  Jove,  here  she  is." 

Struck  by  the  sudden  joyous  lighting  up  and  softening 
of  his  interlocutor's  eyes,  Glynn  turned  to  see  the  cause, 
and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  beauty  of 
AuteuiL 

Seldom  had  he  been  so  surprised,  and  it  must  be  con- 
fessed shocked,  as  when  he  saw  this  charming  ideal  crea- 
ture smile  back  affectionately  to  the  rowdy-looking  nomad 
who  claimed  her  as  his  child,  whom  he  remembered  as 
one  of  an  adventurous  gang,  ready  alike  with  dice-boz  or 
revolver,  barely  ten  years  ago. 

"I  thought  you  had  forgotten  me,"  she  said,  slipping 
her  hand  through  his  arm. 

"Forgotten  you?  No,  faith  1  you  must  blame  my 
friend  here,  if  I  am  a  trifle  late.    This  is  an  old  acquaint- 


STRIKING  THE   TRAIL.  IJ 

ance,  my  dear ;  we  have  faced  death  together  more  than 
once  ;  and  a  better,  pluckier  comrade  no  man  need  wish 
for.     Mr.  Glynn — Miss  Lambert." 

Glynn  raised  his  hat  with  profound  respect. 

"  He  has  abeady  befriended  me,"  she  returned,  gazing 
at  him  with  a  pretty,  surprised,  bewildered  look  in  her 
large  eyes.  "  I  should  still  have  been  waiting  to  cross 
there  at  Madeleine,  had  he  not  escorted  me." 

Lambert  gave  a  quick,  questioning  glance  at  his 
daughter's  open  smiling  face,  and  then  exclaimed,  "I 
am  infinitely  obliged  to  you,  sir;  infinitely,  begad  !  I  teU 
you  what,  Elsie,  you  mustn't  be  out  so  late  in  the  day  by 
yourself.  Why  don't  you  take  the  bonne  with  you,  or  wait 
till  I  come  in." 

"  Oh,  it  is  such  waste  of  time  waiting  for  a  chaperon  on 
a  fine  day  ;  but  we  shall  be  too  late  to  secure  places  if  we 
delay." 

"  Yes,  we  had  better  be  jogging.  Can  you  dine  with 
us  to-day?  And  we'll  have  a  talk  over  old  times,  and  my 
girl  win  give  us  a  song  or  two.  Pot  luck,  my  dear  fellow, 
but  you  shan't  starve." 

"  Many  thanks,  I  am  engaged  unfortunately,"  returned 
Glynn,  half-pleased,  half-regretful  that  he  had  a  real  ex- 
cuse ready. 

"  Well,  to-morrow  then,  at  six,  sharp,  and  we  will  go 
and  liear  the  new  operelle  at  the  Comique  after." 

"  You  are  very  good.  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said 
Glynn,  with  an  irresistible  impulse  as  if  some  voice,  not 
his  own,  answered  for  him. 

"  Well,  good-bye  for  the  present.  By  the  way,  where 
do  you  hang  out  ?  What's  your  hotel  ?  Wagram  ? — very 
good."  He  swept  off  his  hat  in  continental  style,  and  his 
daughter  bestowed  a  bow  and  smile  upon  Glynn  which 
conveyed  to  him  in  some  occult  manner  the  impression 
that  it  pleased  her  to  think  he  was  a  friend  of  her  father. 

How  in  the  name  of  all  that  was  contradictory  did  he 
come  to  have  such  a  daughter  ?  From  the  crown  of  her 
head  to  her  dainty  shoes  she  looked  thoroughly  a  gentle- 
woman. More  distinguished  than  fashionable  in  style, 
and  so  delightfully  tranquil  in  pose  and  manner.  "  I  hate 
chattering,  animated  women,"  thought  Glj^nn,  with  that 
readiness  to  condemn  everything  different  from  the  attrac- 


12  AT  BAT. 

tion  of  the  moment,  peculiar  to  the  stronger  and  more 
logical  sex. 

It  was  too  dreadful  to  think  of  so  fair  a  creature,  who 
looked  the  incarnation  of  high-toned  purity,  being  sur- 
rounded by  a  swarm  of  sharpers — for  that  Lambert  alias 
Merrick,  and  a  dozen  other  names  probably,  could  have 
ever  settled  down  to  sober,  honest  work,  seemed  impos- 
sible. 

Glynn  dived  deep  into  the  recesses  of  his  memory,  re- 
calling all  the  circumstances  of  his  former  acquaintance 
with  Merrick  or  Lambert,  and  necessarily  reviewing  his 
own  life  also. 

He  had  lost  his  parents  in  boyhood,  but  was  left  well 
provided  for,  and  had  been  carefully  educated,  taking  a 
creditable  degree  at  Oxford  shortly  before  coming  of  age. 
Then  came  a  spell  of  wandering,  of  high  play,  of  rage  for 
costly  excitement,  which,  with  a  love  of  speculation,  beg- 
gared him  in  a  few  years.  This  climax  found  him  in 
New  York,  and  for  a  considerable  time  he  was  put  to 
strange  shifts  to  make  out  a  living,  for  he  would  not  beg, 
he  was  too  true  a  gentleman  to  stoop  to  dishonesty  ;  but 
he  was  by  no  means  ashamed  to  dig,  or  to  do  any  work 
worthy  an  honorable  man.  During  his  desperate  struggle 
with  fortune  he  joined  an  exploring  expedition,  and  found 
himself  among  queer  companions  in  one  of  those  wonder- 
ful improvised  far-western  towns,  which  spring  up,  mush- 
room-like, almost  in  a  night,  having  spent  the  httle  money 
he  had  scraped  together  in  his  attempt  to  reach  it,  after 
the  failure  and  dispersion  of  the  prospecting  party  he 
had  been  induced  to  join. 

On  the  road  he  had  fallen  in  with  Merrick,  whom  he 
found  friendly,  helpful,  and  not  without  gleams  of  good 
and  of  decency.  So  for  a  week  or  two  they  kept  together. 
Fortune  befriended  Glynn  at  the  gambhng-tables,  till  the 
row  occurred  with  which  Merrick  was  so  inseparably  asso- 
ciated, and  which  arose  out  of  Glynn's  extraordinary  run 
of  luck,  at  which  the  mixed  company  of  miners,  explorers, 
desperadoes  and  ruffians  took  offence.  Finding  the  place 
rather  too  hot  for  safety,  Glynn  and  his  new  friend  parted 
company,  the  former  making  his  way  to  San  Francisco, 
whence  he  sailed  for  Australia,  where  after  various  adven- 
tures he  was  agreeably  surprised,  by  seeing  an  advertise- 


STRIKING   THE   TRAIL.  13 

ment  in  the  Times,  requesting  him  to  communicate  with  a 
well-known  firm  of  solicitors  in  London.  The  result 
proved  that  his  uncle,  the  late  Sir  Pster  Gethin,  had  left 
him  a  handsome  legacy. 

The  late  Baronet  had  been  a  partner  in  a  great  banking 
and  money-lending  house;  Glynn  elected  to  let  his  capital 
remain  invested  in  the  concern.  His  varied  experience 
in  speculative  communities,  his  knowledge  of  modem 
languages,  and  his  training  generally,  made  him  a  valu- 
able acquisition  to  the  firm,  first  as  an  employe,  and  after 
a  few  years  as  a  junior  partner.  He  was  frequently 
despatched  to  conduct  compHcated  transactions  with  for- 
eign houses,  to  inquire  into  the  validity  of  distant  schemes, 
to  test  the  practicality  of  proposed  undei-takings.  He 
had  thoroughly  sown  his  wild  oats,  and  had  developed 
ambition,  self-respect,  self-confidence  ;  but,  unknown  to 
himself,  the  spring  of  imaginative  passion  which  had  been 
the  cause  of  all  his  misfortunes,  and  most  of  his  pleasure, 
was  only  covered  in,  not  exhausted,  and  lay  there,  ready 
to  bubble  up  and  well  over  into  a  strong  current  at  the 
touch  of  the  divining-rod. 

Perhaps  it  was  some  hidden  sympathy  arising  from  this 
latent  warmth  that  made  him  so  great  a  favorite  with  his 
uncle's  widow, — a  shrewd  worldly  voltairean  woman,  weU- 
bom  and  well-bred, — who  escaped  from  poverty  and  de- 
pendence by  accepting  the  position  of  wedded  nurse  to 
the  aged,  gouty,  city  knight.  Sir  Peter  Gethin, 

It  was  long  since  Glynn  had  been  so  roused  and  inter- 
ested, and  the  acquaintances  on  whom  he  called  that  after- 
noon, found  him  unusually  animated  and  agreeable.  All 
through  a  somewhat  solemn  dinner  at  the  house  of  a 
great  French  banker,  he  was  buoyed  up  by  the  prospect 
of  the  different  kind  of  festivity  which  awaited  him  next 
day.  There  was  something  curiously  stimtdating  in  this 
encounter  with  his  old  Califomian  acquaintance  thus 
swept  into  such  incongruous  surroundings  by  the  eddying 
current,  life's  stream.  How  did  he  come  to  have  such  a 
daughter  ?  What  matter !  enough  that  there  would  be  so 
charming  an  ingredient  in  the  morrow's  pleasure.  As  for 
his  own  prudence,  self-control,  worldly  wisdom — it  never 
crossed  his  mind  to  doubt  them,  idc  'ivould  pose  as  a 
calm  spectator,  study  the  puzzle  offered  to  his  observation, 


14  AT  BAT. 

and  if  necessary  let  Merrick  or  Lambert  know  the  exact 

position  of  Deering  should  he  ever  cross  their  path. 

The  weather  was  still  calm,  bright,  warm,  when,  having 
drawn  a  hght  paletot  over  his  evening  dress,  Glynn  left 
his  hotel,  prefeiTing  to  walk  as  he  was  in  good  time  for  din- 
ner. At  the  comer  of  the  Rue  CastigHone  he  met  Deering, 
who  was  coming  leisurely  from  the  opposite  direction ; 
they  stopped  to  exchange  a  few  words,  and  then  Deering 
exclaimed,  looking  at  his  watch,  "  I  did  not  know  it  was 
so  late,  I  am  to  do  duty,  and  escort  my  wife  and  her  sister 
to  the  Opera  Comique  to-night,  au  revoir,"  and  they 
parted. 

"The  Opera  Comique,"  muttered  GljTm,  with  a  strong 
feeling  of  annoyance.  "  He  wiU  see  his  Auteuil  attraction, 
and  recognize  me  in  attendance.  The  presence  of  such  a 
father,  too,  will  dispose  him  to  believe  it's  a  case  of  fair 
game;  but  after  all,  I  have  no  right  to  think  ill  of  Deering. 
There  is  a  curious  sort  of  fate  about  the  whole  affair.  I 
am  a  fool  to  worry  myself.  I  wiU  try  to  enjoy  the  passsing 
hour,  and  let  omens  and  auguries  alone." 

On  reaching  his  destination  Glynn  mounted  to  the  third 
efage,  and  was  admitted  by  a  neat,  black-eyed  bonne,  to  a 
dimly  lighted  little  vestibule,  containing  some  oak-chairs 
and  a  small  orange-tree  in  blossom,  the  perfume  of  which 
was  almost  overpowering. 

"  Enter  then.  Monsieur,"  said  the  servant,  throwing  open 
one  of  several  doors  on  either  side,  and  Glynn  found  him- 
Beli  in  a  pretty,  pleasant  salon  and  the  presence  of  Miss 
Lambert;  who,  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  was  in  outdoor 
dress. 

"  My  father  will  be  here  directly,"  she  said,  giving  him 
her  hand.  "  He  has  gone  to  fetch  our  friends,  Madame 
and  Mademoiselle  DaviUiers,  for  we  have  changed  our 
plans  ;  not  being  able  to  secure  places  at  the  Comique  for 
to-night,  we  propose  to  drive  through  the  bois  and  dine  at 
the  Cafe  de  Madrid,    I  hope  this  will  be  agreeable  to  you  ?" 

"  Any  arrangement  you  make  wiU  be  most  agreeable  to 
me !  "  said  Glynn,  indescribably  relieved  to  find  himself 
and  her  delivered  from  the  possibilities  of  an  encounter 
with  Deering,  and  charmed  with  the  unpretending  refine- 
ment of  her  surroundings.  The  room  was  well  but  simply 
furnished,  and  innocent  of  the  flashy  finery  which  might 


STRIKING   THE   TEAIL.  15 

have  been  looked  for  in  an  apartment  where  Lambert  waa 
master.  Some  small  but  good  water-colors  enlivened  the 
waUs,  which  were  of  a  neutral  tint;  an  open  piano  loaded 
with  music  ;  the  stove  converted  into  a  stand  for  flowers  ; 
the  furniture  of  carved  oak  and  green  velvet ;  a  small 
basket  work-table,  overflowing  with  bright-colored  wools 
and  silk,  some  fine  old  china  on  the  mantel-shelf  ;  a  vase  or 
two  on  comer-brackets,  formed  a  pleasant  picture  of 
comfort  and  occupation. 

"  You  know  the  Caf 6  de  Madrid,  of  course  ?  "  said  Miss 
Lambert,  when  Glynn  had  taken  a  seat,  as  she  put  her 
music  together  and  closed  the  piano. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  well ;  it  is  a  capital  place  to  dine  at." 

"  On  such  a  fine  evening  it  is  delightful  to  be  among 
the  trees  ;  they  are  quite  green  already,  and  there  is  a 
charming  walk  down  to  the  river.  We  must  try  and  per- 
suade Madame  Davilliers  and  the  dear  father  to  walk  ;  do 
you  mind  walking  after  dinner  ?  "  She  sat  down  suddenly 
while  she  spoke  and  looked  straight  at  him  gravely,  as  if 
it  were  a  question  of  the  last  importance.  "Does  she 
think  me  an  old  fogy?"  thought  Glynn,  and  answered 
with  a  smile,  "  I  have  not  yet  reached  that  period  of  Hf e 
when  repose  after  eating  is  essential." 

"  No,"  stiU  considering  him  gravely,  "  you  are  much 
younger  than  my  father.  When  he  spoke  of  you  as  a 
comrade  I  thought  you  must  be  about  the  same  age.  Is 
it  long  since  you  met  ?  " 

"  Quite  ten  years." 

"  That  is  a  Jong  time.  But  my  father  is  always  young 
— I  sometimes  think  he  is  younger  than  I  am — nothing 
depresses  him,  he  is  so  fuU  of  resource  ;  and  enjoj's  as  if 
he  were  but  five-and-twenty." 

"  Yes  ;  I  was  always  struck  with  his  remarkable  readi- 
ness.    Do  you  remember  America?" 

"  America  ?    I  never  was  in  America.    I  was  born  in 

Australia,  but  my  father Ah !  here  he  is,"  looking 

out  of  the  window  as  the  carriage  was  heard  to  stop.  She 
took  up  her  gloves,  which  were  lying  beside  her  sunshade, 
and  began  to  put  them  on.  In  another  moment  the  door 
opened  to  admit  Lambert,  who  came  in  with  an  expres- 
sion of  radiant  satisfaction. 

"Glynn,  my  fine  fellow!    I  am  deHghted  to  see  you- 


16  AT  BAT. 

Has  my  daughter  told  you  we  have  changed  our  plans; 
and  substituted  a  little  dinner  at  the  Madrid  instead  of 
baking  ourselves  at  the  Comique  ?  AH  right,  come  along, 
Madame  DaviUiers  and  'Toinette  are  waiting  for  us  be- 
low ;  they  have  brought  the  cousin,  young  Hemi  Jje 
Clerc,  Elsie,  and  who  should  I  stumble  on  just  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  Rue  d'Aguesseau,  but  Vincent,  going  to  dine 
all  alone  by  himself  ;  so  I  made  him  jump  up  on  the  box. 
"We'll  be  a  nice  httle  party  ;  you  ladies  wiU  have  a  cava- 
lier apiece,  and  one  to  spare,  that's  myself  ;  I  am  only  a 
super  nowadays  ;  don't  forget  a  wrap  for  coming  home." 
Elsie  locked  the  drawer  of  an  ornamental  bureau,  put  the 
key  in  her  pocket,  and  declared  herself  ready  ;  and  Lam- 
bert led  the  way  down-stairs.  Arrived  at  the  entrance, 
Glynn  was  duly  presented  to  Madame  and  Mademoiselle 
BaviUiers,  in  whom  he  recognized  the  ladies  who  were 
with  Miss  Lambert  at  Auteuil ;  they  smiled  and  bowed 
most  graciously,  expressing  their  dehght  at  ]VL  Lambert's 
change  of  plans  in  rather  shrill-toned  raptures.  After  a 
little  confusion  it  was  settled  that  MJr.  Vincent,  a  veiy 
elaborately  got-up  continentahzed  American,  with  fair 
hair,  moustaches,  and  complexion,  and  rather  sleepy  pale 
blue  eyes,  should  escort  Madame  DaviUiers  and  her 
daughter.  While  Miss  Lambei-t,  her  father,  Glynn,  and 
young  Le  Clerc,  a  good-looking  boy  in  the  polytechnique 
uniform,  should  occupy  another  open  carriage. 

Glynn  fancied  he  observed  an  expression  of  decided  re- 
lief in  Elsie's  face  as  Vincent  took  the  seat  assigned  him, 
and  she  gave  her  hand  to  her  father,  who  assisted  her 
with  careful  politeness  to  her  place  ;  it  was  absurd  to  feel 
pleased  by  so  trifling  an  indication — yet  Glynn  did  feel 
pleased. 

The  drive  along  the  beautiful  Champs  Elysees,  and  the 
Avenue  de  I'lmperatrice,  as  the  approach  to  the  bois  was 
then  called,  is  exhilarating, — especially  when  seated  oppo- 
site an  exceedingly  pretty  woman,  whose  prettiness  pos- 
sesses a  peculiar  charm  for  your  o^vn  individual  taste, 
and  with  whom  for  some  occult  reason  you  feel  in  sym- 
pathy. Away  past  the  marionette  shows,  and  Punch  and 
Judy's,  the  well-kept  gardens  and  fountains,  the  mansions 
all  sheltered  from  the  heat  by  their  closed  jalousies,  at  the 
further  end,  round  the  wide  sweep  which  encirdes  the 


8TEIKING  THE  TRAIL.  17 

Arc  de  Triomphe,  and  on  past  splendid  equipages  return- 
ing from  the  afternoon  drive  up  and  down  Long  Champs  ; 
their  occupants  brilliant  in  exquisite  toilettes,  on  down 
the  Empress'  Avenue,  soon  to  be  rechristened  under  a 
new  order  of  things.  Glynn  could  not  help  a  keen  sense 
of  amusement  as  he  compared  the  present  condition  of 
the  man  opposite  him  to  his  former  state  ;  and  the  won- 
der grew  and  grew,  as  to  how  such  a  girl  as  Miss  Lambert 
came  to  be  his  daughter.  The  embryo  artillery  officer 
(such  was  Le  Clerc's  destination)  chattered  gaUy,  and  was 
weU  seconded  by  his  host,  whose  French,  though  fluent 
and  amusing,  was  not  distinguished  by  grammatical  cor- 
rectness, or  purity  of  accent.  His  daughter  said  little, 
but  that  little  showed  she  could  express  herseK  pointedly. 
Moreover,  she  looked  so  franklj  and  confidingly  at  Glynn 
that  he  felt  as  if  she  accepted  him,  stranger  though  he 
was,  as  an  hereditary  friend.  He  had  to  exercise  some 
self-control  to  keep  his  eyes  from  saying  too  plainly  how 
charming  he  thought  her. 

The  gardens  of  the  Chateau  de  Madrid  were  gay  and 
fragrant  with  lilac  and  laburnum,  mignonette,  and 
jonquils. 

Lambert,  who  loved  to  do  things  in  a  princely  fashion, 
had  written  to  secure  a  private  room  and  dinner.  The 
party  was  therefore  received  with  great  politeness  and 
attention. 

The  young  ladies  betook  themselves  to  the  garden,  fol- 
lowed by  the  gentlemen  except  Lambert,  who  went  in- 
doors with  madame  to  order  the  wines.  They  were  soon 
summoned  to  table,  but  in  the  short  interval,  Glynn 
observed  that  Vincent  made  a  decided  attempt  to  separate 
Miss  Lambert  from  her  companions,  an  attempt  which  she 
frustrated  with  calm,  resolute  poHteness,  remarkable  in  so 
young  a  girl.  The  dinner  was  excellent,  the  company 
animated,  pleased  with  themselves  and  each  other,  perhaps 
slightly  noisy.  Madame  Davilliers  talked  well  if  she  also 
talked  a  good  deal.  Lambert  occasionally,  often  uncon- 
sciously, said  good  things,  and  told  a  story  with  point  and 
humor.  Vincent  devoted  himself  to  Madame.  Yoimg  Le 
Clerc  to  his  cousin  and  Miss  Lambert.  Glynn  was  for 
some  time  an  observant  listener,  more  and  more  amused 
and  puzzled  at  the  incongruity  of  the  whole  affair,  and 

2 


18  AT  BAT. 

gathering  from  the  conversation  that  Mademoiselle  Antoi- 
nette DaviUiers  had  been  Miss  Lambert's  dearest  friend 
at  the  convent  school,  where  they  had  spent  nearly  six 
years  together,  that  the  papa  Davilliers  held  some  govern- 
ment employment,  and  that  Vincent  was  the  agent  for  a 
New  York  commercial  house.  Lambert's  own  occupation 
seemed  very  indefinite.  He  talked  of  ha\'ing  been  con- 
nected with  the  press,  of  having  had  business  interviews 
with  various  artistes,  of  writing  himself  on  sporting  mat- 
ters. The  symposium  was  prolonged,  and  when  it  was 
over,  Glynn,  observing  a  piano  in  a  comer  of  their  dining- 
room,  asked  Miss  Lambert  if  she  remembered  her  father's 
promise,  that  she  should  sing  ? 

"  Yes,"  smiling.     "  But,  it  was  his  promise,  not  mine." 

"  Ah !  my  darUn',*'  cried  Lambert,  overhearing.  "  You'll 
not  dishonor  your  father's  draft  on  your  musical  bank ! " 

"No  I  will  sing  with  pleasure  by  and  by,  Antoinette 
will  begin," 

"  And  an  uncommon  sweet  little  pipe  she  has,  of  her 
own.  Mademoiselle  is  always  gracious — and  ready  to  give 
pleasure !  Open  the  instrument,  Elsie,  I  hope  it  isn't  an 
insti-ument  of  torture." 

"  It  might  be  much  worse,"  she  retiimed,  when  she  had 
played  a  few  chords.  "  Come,  Antoinette,"  she  said,  as 
she  began  an  accompaniment,  and  Mademoiselle  Davilliers, 
a  neat  little  blonde  with  a  saucy  "  tip-tnted  "  nose,  and  a 
pretty  toilette  of  the  latest  fashion,  went  over  to  the  piano, 
and  in  a  sweet,  slightly  shrill  soprano  proceeded  to 
request  some  ideal  Jeannette  to  look  into  the  well,  that 
the  reflection  of  her  blue  eyes  might  gladden  the  singer. 
She  sang  vnth  much  piquant  expression,  and  was  loudly 
applauded. 

"  I  think  I  should  prefer  looking  into  the  blue  eyes  them- 
selves, to  searching  for  a  cold  reflection,"  said  GljTm,  who 
had  placed  himself  at  the  end  of  the  piano,  so  as  to  see  the 
faces  of  the  singers. 

"  It  would  be  far  better,"  returned  Miss  Lambert ; 
"realities  are  always  best." 

"  Now,  Elsie  ;  we  are  waiting  for  you,"  cried  her  father. 
Her  reply  was  to  strike  a  few  chords,  and  begin  a  sweet, 
wild,  plaintive  air  with  Italian  words.  Her  voice  was 
peculiarly  rich  and  sympathetic  ;  its  lower  notes  were 


8TEIKING   THE   TRAIL.  19 

especially  fine  ;  she  had  been  thoroughly  well  taught,  and 
had  besides  a  degree  of  natural  expression  that  sent  her 
tones  right  to  the  heart  of  her  hearers. 

"  This  is  indeed  music,"  said  Glynn,  in  a  low  voice  when 
she  ceased.  "  Do  you  feel  something  of  the  delight  you 
give  ?  " 

"  Do  I  give  you  delight  ?  You  look  as  if  you  liked  my 
singing, — I  am  glad." 

"  It  is  heaven  to  listen  to  you,"  he  exclaimed,  almost  in 
spite  of  himself.     "  Your  song  is  quite  unknown  to  me." 

*'  It  is  a  Polish  air  arranged  by  my  music-master  for 
some  Italian  words.     He  is  Italian." 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  unworthy  to  ask  for  another  song," 
said  Glynn,  after  a  short  pause. 

"  Why  ?  I  will  sing  as  much  as  you  like,  I  can  always 
sing  weU  for  those  who  Hke  my  singing,"  and  again  her 
deft  fingers  strayed  over  the  notes,  till  they  seemed  to  fall 
of  their  own  accord  into  an  undulating  accompaniment  to 
which  she  sang  a  barcarolle — brilliant,  plajrful,  but  with  an 
undertone  of  sadness. 

"  She  can  sing  a  bit,  can't  she  ? "  asked  Lambert, 
approaching  with  exultant  looks.  "  Wliy,  sir,  she'd  create 
a  fureur,  a  regular  fureur ;  she'd  pick  up  gold  for  the 
asking,  ay,  in  hatfuls,  if  she'd  go  on  the  stage  ;  fancy  her 
in  the  '  Trovatore,'  or,  '  The  Figlia '  or  *  Martha ! ' — give  us 
'  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer,'  my  heart ; — why,  she'd  bring 
down  any  house  ;  and  the  obstinate  little  sinner  refuses 
point-blank  to  appear  on  the  boards,  says  it  would  kill  her. 
Faith,  it  is  a  right  royal  way  to  keep  life  in  one,  and  the 
devil  out  of  one's  pocket ;  by  Jove,  she  would  hold  her 
own  with  the  best,  when  she  has  a  father  that  can  crack 
a  walnut  at  fifty  paces,  and  wouldn't  mind  if  it  were  a 
skull  in  a  good  cause  ! " 

"  Ah,  no !  the  stage  would  be  a  miserable  failure  for  me. 
You  do  not  take  temperament  into  account,"  said  Miss  Lam- 
bert, with  a  sigh,  and  then  stopped  the  conversation  by 
thrilling  out  the  exquisite  air  for  which  Lambert  had 
asked. 

"  Now,**  aaid  the  singer,  when  she  had  finished,  rising 
from  her  aeat,  "  you  must  do  what  I  ask,  dear  father  ;  I 
want  to  walk  to  the  river." 

"It's  a  good  step,"  said  Lambert ;  "  and  it  isn't  civil  to 
leave  yoof  oompauy." 


20  AT  BAT. 

"  But  they  will  come  with  me.  Will  you  not,  Madame 
Davilliers  ?  and  you,  Antoinette, — you  will,  I  am  sure  ?  " 
raising  her  eyes  with  a  confiding  glance  to  Grhom's. 

"  I  shall  enjoy  a  stroll  immensely,"  he  rephed.  Ma- 
dame, however,  preferred  to  remain  where  she  was,  and 
Vincent  offered  to  staj'  and  play  a  game  of  piquet  with 
her  to  pass  away  the  time. 

Evening  was  fast  closing  in  when  they  started  on  their 
ramble,, and  the  falling  dew  drew  out  delicious  odors  from 
grass,  and  flowers,  and  shrubs,  as  they  proceeded  along 
the  avenue  which,  skirting  the  bois,  led  to  the  river-side. 
It  was  longer  than  Miss  Lambert  thought,  and  the  moon 
had  risen  before  they  reached  the  Seine.  At  first  they 
had  kept  all  together,  but  gradually  Glynn  contrived  to 
separate  himself  and  Miss  Lambert  from  the  rest  "  And 
so  \'ou  had  not  courage  enough  for  the  stage,"  he  said, 
after  a  short  pause  in  their  conversation. 

"  No  ;  I  suppose  it  is  want  of  coui-age  that  holds  me 
back — a  sort  of  constitutional  dislike  to  such  a  calUng. 
Though  I  greatly  admire  actresses  and  singers,  I  could  not 
be  one.  I  love  quietness,  stillness, — being  with  a  few 
people  I  like." 

"  Then  you  cannot  like  Paris  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  am  very  happy  here.  I  enjoy  music  and 
pictures,  and  my  father  gives  me  everything  I  can  want 
or  wish.     I  am  a  most  fortunate  girl,  but " 

"  There  are  '  buts '  in  every  life,"  said  Gl}Tin,  as  she 
paused.     He  wanted  her  to  speak  on. 

"  There  is  scarcely  a  '  but '  in  mine.  I  was  going  to 
say  that  I  seem  to  want  a  few  months  in  the  country 
every  year  to  make  life  complete." 

"  Have  you  been  accustomed  to  the  country,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes.  When  we  came  first  from  Australia  I  was  rather 
delicate,  and  I  used  to  Hve  with  the  kind  woman  who  took 
care  of  me  after  my  mother's  death  at  her  brother's  farm 
in  a  beautiful  country  on  the  borders  of  Wales.  It  was  a 
delightful  place.  Then  when  I  was  about  twelve  my 
father  thought  I  ought  to  learn  something,  and  he  put  me 
to  school  in  the  convent.  I  have  never  been  in  England 
since  ;  still  I  always  fancy  I  am  English." 

"  And  I  feel  as  if  you  were  ;  but  Mr.  Lambert  is  Amer- 
ican?" 


STEIKING   THE   TRAIL.      ■  ?1 

*•  Not  by  birth.  Tell  me,  did  you  know  my  father  very 
well  long  ago  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is,  we  ran  some  risks  together.  Why  do 
you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  you  are  go  nnlike  all  his  other  frienda" 

''  Indeed !     Am  I  too  Enghsh  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  cannot  exactly  say  what  the  difference  is,  but 
it  is  very  great." 

Somehow  these  few  simple  words  elated  Glynn  as  though 
they  contained  the  highest  compliment.  He  restrained 
the  reply  which  sprang  to  his  Hps,  and  changed  the  sub- 
ject by  exclaiming,  "  There  is  the  river  ;  how  fine  it  looks 
in  the  moonlight." 

"  Yes,  there  is  real  harmony  there." 

"  You  are  right,  Elsie,"  exclaimed  her  father.  "  It  gives 
one  the  feeling  of  being  in  chui'ch  when  the  organ  is 
playing." 

"  And  you  and  your  delightful  singing  give  me  the  feel- 
ing of  silvery  Ught  upon  a  still,  smooth  lake,"  said  Glynn, 
in  a  low  tone  to  his  companion.  "You,  will  be  forever 
associated  in  my  memory  with  moonlight  and  music." 

Elsie  smiled  a  thoughtful  smile. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  such  an  association  of  ideas  is  a 
good  omen.  There  is  something  mournful  and  mjstic  in 
the  moon," 

"  1  could  never  bring  anything  but  good  to  you," 
whispered  Glynn,  who  was  strangely  stin'ed  by  the  charm 
oi  his  companion,  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  the  curious 
fatahty  which  had  brought  him  into  contact  with  Lambert 
after  having  lost  sight  of  him  for  so  many  years. 

''  Dieu  !  "  cried  Mademoiselle  Davihiers,  "  I  am  expiring 
with  fatigue,  and  I  have  all  that  long  way  to  walk  back ! " 

"  Not  at  ah,  my  dear  young  lady,"  said  Lambert,  with  a 
superior  air.  "  I  made  a  few  inquiries  before  we  started, 
and  told  them  to  send  on  one  of  the  carriages  after  us. 
There,  I  think  I  hear  it  coming." 

The  drive  back  was  a  fitting  end  to  a  delightftd  day. 
Glynn  secured  a  seat  next  Elsie,  and  though  neither  of 
them  spoke  many  words,  he  at  least  felt  that  the  electric 
communication  of  unuttered  sympathy  was  comijlete  and 
sufficient. 

"  Thank  you  for  a  delightful  day,  IkIr,  Lambert" 


22  AT  BAT. 

"  My  dear  boy  " — it  had  been  "  my  dear  sir  "  the  day 
before — "  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  meet  you.  Look  in  on 
us  now  and  again.  I  am  sure  my  daughter  will  be  de- 
lighted.    Elsie !     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Miss  Lambert  is  rather  tired  ;  I  think  she  has  gone  in 
Good-night, — ^thanks,  I  have  a  cigar." 


CHAPTER  BL 

PLAYING  WITH   FIRE. 

When  Gljnn  woke  next  morning  to  broad  day,  the  noise 
of  the  busy  street,  and  the  consciousness  of  an  early 
business  appointment,  last  night,  with  its  music  and  moon- 
light, seemed  to  him  dream-like  and  um-eal.  It  was  all 
very  pleasant  while  it  lasted,  but  in  a  few  days  he  would 
quit  Paris,  and  probably  never  see  Lambert  or  that  won- 
derfully charming  daughter  of  his  again.  What  would  be 
the  destin  V  of  such  a  woman  so  placed  ?  Not  happiness, 
be  feared,  if  she  were  all  she  seemed.  Yet  how  devoted 
that  queer  fish  Lambert  was  to  her.  So  far  as  he  could 
take  care  of  her  he  would  ;  but  what  perceptions  could  he 
have  of  what  was  right  and  suitable  for  a  delicate,  sensi- 
tive girl ! 

However,  Glynn  had  other  things  to  think  of  just  then, 
and  soon  hastened  away  to  hold  high  council  on  money 
matters  with  a  sharp  but  soft-spoken  German  Jew,  whose 
oiliness  had  not  a  soothing  effect  on  the  cool,  clear-sighted 
Enghshmau. 

Business  hours  are  earlier  in  Paris  than  in  London. 
Glynn  found  himself  on  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  and 
free,  while  it  was  still  early  enough  to  pay  a  visit.  With 
a  vague  curiosity,  arising  from  very  mixed  motives,  he 
directed  his  steps  to  the  hotel  where  ]\Ir.  and  Lady  Frances 
Deering  lodged,  and  found  that  lady  at  tea  with  her  son — 
a  pale,  delicate,  deformed  boy — and  a  gentleman  of  mid- 
dle iieight,  with  a  frank,  sun-burnt  face,  and  a  certain 
easy  looseness  about  his  well-made  clotiies. 

'•  You  are  just  in  time  for  tea,  RL:.  Gljnin,"  said  Lady 
Frances,  in  a  soft  but  monotonous  voice.  "  Do  you  know 
xny  cousin,  Captain  Verner  ?  " 

Yes,  the  gentlemen  had  met  before,  and  they  exchanged 
a  few  civil  words. 

"  Is  this  your  first  visit  to  Paris  V  "  asked  Glynn,  kindly, 

(23)" 


24  AT  BAT. 

as  he  drew  his  chair  beside  the  sofa  on  which  the  boy 
was  lying. 

"  Yes,  the  very  first." 

"  And  how  do  you  like  it  ?  '* 

"  Oh,  so  much !  It  is  so  beautifiil  and  bright.  I  should 
like  to  stay  here  always." 

"  Bertie  is  much  better  and  stronger  since  we  came  here, 
which  partly  accounts  for  his  wish  to  stay,"  said  his  mother, 
with  a  slight  sigh. 

"  I  wish  I  could  take  you  to  sea,  my  boy,"  cried  Captain 
Vemer;  "  a  cruise  with  me  would  make  you  all  right." 

Lady  Frances  turned  her  pale  eyes  on  the  speaker,  and 
Glynn  noticed  that  they  darkened  with  a  look  of  intense 
pain  only  for  an  instant,  while  she  said  with  her  usual 
composure,  "  I  have  no  doubt  that  Herbert  will  be  quite 
fortified  by  Dr.  Lemaire's  treatment.  Then  the  summer 
is  before  him,  and  he  will  have  gathered  strength  before 
winter.     Winter  is  vei-y  severe  and  dreary  at  Denham." 

"  You  should  winter  at  Palermo,"  observed  Glynn.  "  It 
is  a  delightful  spot — a  soi-t  of  place  to  make  you  forget 
troubles." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Vemer,  earnestly. 

" Say  could"  returned  Lady  Frances,  and  she  rose  to 
ring  the  belL 

She  was  very  tall  and  sUght,  exceedingly  dignified  and 
deUberate  in  her  movements,  and  would  have  been  rather 
handsome  but  for  her  extreme  stillness,  coldness,  and 
want  of  color.  A  pale  blonde  sounds  like  insipidity,  but 
Lady  Frances  was  not  insipid;  she  was  a  great  lady  to 
the  tips  of  her  fingers,  yet  simple  in  dress  and  manner  to 
a  degree  that  bewildered  those  gorgeous  dames,  the  wives 
of  her  husband's  wealthier  constituents,  on  the  rare  occa- 
sions when  they  were  admitted  within  the  sacred  portals 
of  Denham  Castle. 

"Why  are  you  hurrying  away  to  London?"  asked 
Vemer.  "There  is  nothing  to  call  Deering  back,  as  he 
has  lost  his  seat." 

"He  is  not  happy  out  of  club-land,  I  suppose,"  said 
Lady  Frances,  sitting  down  beside  her  son.  "  I  must  say  I 
am  very  sorry  he  lost  the  election.  He  deserved  better  at 
the  hands  of  the  Denham  men,  but  it  was  the  radical 
mining  people  that  turned  him  out" 


PLATING  WITH    FIEE.  'jS 

**  Do  you  leave  Boon  ?  "  asked  Glynn. 

**0n  Thursday;  I  suppose  you  will  not  come  back  quite 
BO  soon  ?     You  are  fond  of  Pans,  I  think  ?  " 

"  My  movements  are  rather  uncertain  ;  1  may  go  on  to 
Berlin." 

"I  wish  you  would  come  as  far  as  Genoa  with  me," 
cried  Verner.  "  I  am  just  appointed  to  the  -  Africa,'  on 
the  Mediterranean  station.  I  hate  travehng  alone.  Poor 
Dennison,  who  commanded  her,  died  of  a  few  days'  fever 
off  the  coast  of  Calabria, — caught  it  shooting  in  some 
marshes,  and " 

The  entrance  of  Deering  interrupted  him, 

"  How  do,  Glynn  ?  You  still  here,  Verner  ?  "  He  took 
no  notice  of  Lady  Frances  or  his  son. 

"  Yes,  I  want  to  see  the  re-vaew  to-morrow,  and  will  start 
by  the  Lyons  train  at  night,"  said  Verner,  in  an  apologetic 
tone. 

Deering  tlu-ew  himself  ineo  an  easy-chair,  exclaiming, 
"  It  is  getting  insufferably  hot  here.  Could  you  manage 
to  start  on  Tuesday  night  instead  of  Thursday  morning  ?  " 
— ^to  his  wife. 

"  I  should  think  so.' ' 

"Then  pray  make  your  arrangements,  I  say,  Glynn, 
things  look  ver}^  shaky  in  Spain.  There  will  be  a  tre- 
mendous fall  in  Spanish  bonds." 

"  They  will  recover,  if  one  can  hold  on.  In  fact,  if  a 
fellow  can  afford  to  wait,  it  would  not  be  a  bad  plan  to 
buy  now,"  returned  Glynn. 

Here  Deering's  valet  brought  his  master  some  brandy- 
and-soda,  with  a  due  amount  of  ice,  a  refreshment  which 
both  Verner  and  Glynn  declined. 

Travers  Deering  was  taU,  but  not  so  tall  as  Glynn,  more 
conventionally  distinguished-looking,  with  regular  aristo- 
cratic features,  steel-grey  eyes,  and  nut-brown  hair  and 
moustaches.  He  was,  on  the  whole,  a  popular  man,  and 
bestowed  a  good  deal  of  carefuUy  veiled  cultivation  on 
his  popularity.  He  was  considered  rather  the  type  of  a 
proud,  manly,  English  country  gentleman  of  a  fairly  clean 
life,  though  no  saint,  and  a  little  martyrized  by  being  tied 
to  so  cold  and  impenetrable  a  wife.  Servants,  and  insig- 
nificant people  of  that  description,  whispered  that  the 
steel-grey  eyes  could  flash  with  balefxil  fire,  and  that  Lady 


26  AT  BAY. 

Frances  had  grown  colder  and  stiller  since  the  deformity 
and  delicacy  of  her  only  child  had  become  perceptible 
and  hopeless  ;  while  Mr.  Deering  never  stayed  at  Denham 
alone  with  her, 

Glynn  was  conscious  of  an  unaccountable  sense  of  re- 
lief when  Deering  expressed  a  desire  to  quit  Paris,  even 
sooner  than  he  had  at  first  intended. 

It  was  absurd  to  imagine  that  any  evil  could  arise 
out  of  a  mere  passing  admiration  ;  it  coidd  be  nothing 
more,  for  a  handsome  stranger.  Yet  the  expression  of 
Deering'a  eyes,  the  uneasiness,  wonder,  fire,  all  commin- 
gled, which  had  so  imjiressed  him,  flashed  back  vividly 
across  his  memory  with  undiminished  disturbing  force. 
But  Deering  was  talking. 

"I  have  been  round  Count  de  Latour's  stables  this 
morning.  Have  you  seen  them,  Glynn  ?  They  are  worth 
a  visit.  His  stud-gi-oom  and  head  men  are  all  English. 
I  am  very  much  inclined  to  back  his  chestnut,  *  Bai'-le- 
duc,*  for  the  Derby.  He's  a  splendid  horse,  only,  of 
course,  it  isn't  always  blood  or  breeding  that  wins.  There 
were  a  couple  of  Americans  looking  through  the  stables 
at  the  same  time,  who  seemed  deucedly  wide  awake,  and 
incHned  to  back  both  *  Bar-le-duc '  and  a  filly, '  Etoile  d'Au- 
vergne,'  about  which  I  am  not  so  sure.  I  have  met  one 
of  tliem,  Vandervoort,  in  London,  do  you  know  him  ?  " 

Glynn  said  he  thought  he  did.  The  talk  became,  for  a 
few  minutes,  of  the  Turf — turfy.  And  while  it  went  on 
the  boy  rose,  and  followed  by  his  mother,  who  covered 
his  retreat,  noiselessly  left  the  room.  Gl^Tin,  looking  at 
Deering  at  this  moment,  caught  an  expression  of  malig- 
nant dislike  in  his  eyes  towards  his  deformed  son,  or  his 
wife,  or  both,  which  surprised  and  revolted  liim.  It  was 
instantaneous,  and  he  continued  to  talk  lightly  and  pleas- 
antly, till  Glynn  rose  to  bid  Lady  Frances  good-morning. 

Verner  left  the  room  at  the  same  time,  and  the  two  men 
walked  towards  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  together. 

"  Pity  that  poor  boy  is  a  cripple,"  said  Glynn,  speaking 
out  of  his  thoughts.  "  I  fancy  Deering  is  a  good  deal  cut 
up  about  it." 

"  I  don't  know  about  Deering,  nor  do  I  care  much," 
returned  Captain  Verner,  bluntly ;  "  but  it  has  been  a 
desperate  grief   to  the  mother.    Why,  when  we  were 


PLAYING  WITH   FIRE.  27 

children  together — ay,  and  after — Lady  Frances  was  the 
life  of  us  all.  I  never  saw  a  girl  with  so  much  go  in  her; 
and  now  1 " — he  broke  off  expressively.  "  However,  no 
one  can  help  her,"  he  added,  after  a  moment ;  and  then 
quickly  turning  the  subject,  began  to  talk  of  French  poli- 
tics, till  they  reached  the  corner  of  the  Champs  Ely  sees, 
where  they  paused  to  see  the  Empress  drive  by.  There 
Verner  turned  back  to  keep  an  engagement,  and  Glynn 
stroUed  on  slowly  to  his  hotel,  resolutely  resisting  a  strong 
temptation  to  call  and  inquire  for  Miss  Lambert.  Indeed, 
with  the  help  of  a  good  deal  of  letter- writing  and  inter- 
views with  sundry  personages  of  financial  importance, 
Glynn  contrived  to  keep  his  mind  free  from  imaginative 
pictures  and  irresistible  suggestions.  He  was  not  going 
to  make  a  fool  of  himself,  or  of  any  one  else,  either  ;  he 
was  too  old  and  experienced  to  be  carried  away  by  a  ro- 
mantic encounter,  or  the  liquid  loveliness  of  a  pair  of 
lustrous,  dreamy,  dark-blue  eyes.  "  What  eyes  they  are ! " 
he  thought,  as  he  sat  at  his  second  dijeune,  on  Sunday 
morning,  three  whole  days  since  he  had  enjoyed  the  hos- 
pitality of  his  quondam  comrade  of  the  Calif  ornian  epi- 
sode. "  Mere  civility  demands  that  I  should  call.  I  think 
I  have  been  under  fire  often  enough  to  stand  this  last 
fusillade  without  flinching  ;  besides,  the  whole  thing  is 
deucedly  curious."  So,  after  looking  in  at  Gaghnane's, 
and  reading  the  English  papers,  Glynn  found  himself  on 
his  way  to  the  Rue  de  L'Eveque. 

The  perfume  of  orange-blossoms  which  came  forth 
from  the  opening  door  greeted  him  hke  the  prelude  of 
delight,  so  vividly  did  it  remind  him  of  the  pleasant 
hours  to  which  his  first  visit  was  an  introduction. 

"  Yes,  monsieur  was  at  home,  and  mademoiselle  also," 
and  the  servant,  opening  a  different  door  from  that 
through  which  she  had  ushered  him  on  the  former  occa- 
sion, spoke  to  some  one  within,  and  immediately  Lam- 
bert himself,  in  a  gorgeous  dressing-gown,  a  fez  on  his 
head,  and  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth,  came  forth  to  greet 
him. 

"  Glynn,  come  along  into  my  den  here.  I  thought  you 
had  left  for  some  other  diggings.  I  was  going  to  look 
you  up  to-day.  I've  not  had  a  moment  I  could  call  my 
own  since  we  parted!"    While  he  spoke  he  u^ered  hia 


28  AT  BAT. 

visitor  into  a  small,  very  small  room,  containing  a  large 
knee-hole  table  loaded  with  letters,  newspapers,  small 
account-books,  and  all  appliances  for  writing,  and  two 
very  comfortable  circular-chairs.  These  articles  of  furni- 
ture scarcely  left  room  to  move,  A  looking-glass,  sur- 
mounted by  a  couple  of  revolvers,  completed  the  decora- 
tions. A  dim  light  was  admitted  by  a  long,  narrow 
stained-glass  window  ;  and  a  second  door,  which  stood 
open,  led  into  a  comfortably  furnished  dining-room. 

*'  This  is  my  Cabinet  de  travaille,"  said  Lambert,  wheehng 
roimd  one  of  the  chairs  ;  "  and  I  am  just  taking  an  hour 
or  two  from  the  Sabbath  to  clear  up  some  httle  arrears  of 
work.     Where  have  you  been  all  these  days  ?  " 

"  Very  busy,  or  1  should  have  paid  my  respects  to  you 
and  Miss  Lambert  sooner." 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,  you  are  in  business  yourself. 
Anything  in  the  book-making  way  ?  I  think  1  remember 
you  had  a  fair  notion  as  to  the  value  of  a  horse." 

"No  ;  mine  is  a  more  sober  system  of  gambling." 

'•  Aha !  the  share  market  I  I  could  give  you  a  hint  or 
two  about  that  new  steamship  company  they  are  getting 
up  in  Hamburg." 

"  Thank  you,  my  hands  are  pretty  full  already  " 

After  a  little  further  conversation  on  financial  and  sport- 
ing topics  while  Lambert  was  putting  his  papers  together 
with  some  degree  of  rough  order,  he  proposed  to  join  his 
daughter. 

"  She  was  out  to  mass  with  her  friends  the  Davilliers, 
and  had  breakfast  with  them  ;  I  have  scarcely  seen  her 
this  morning."  So  saying,  he  rose  and  led  Glynn  through 
the  dining-room  to  an  arched  doorway,  across  which  a 
curtain  of  rich  dark  stuff  was  drawn,  and  lifting  it  cried, 
"  Are  you  there,  my  jewel  ?  1  have  brought  Mr,  Glynn  to 
see  you. " 

"  Come  in,"  said  a  voice  ;  and  as  he  entered  Glynn  saw 
Miss  Lambert  advancing  from  an  open  window  to  meet 
him. 

The  room  into  which  he  had  been  ushered  was  small, 
though  larger  than  the  minute  apartment  Lambert  had 
appropriated.  It  was  prettily  and  lightly  decorated,  the 
hangings  and  chair-covers  being  of  chintz,  bouquets  of 
roses  tied  with  blue  ribbon  on  a  cream  ground,  and  had 


PLATING  WITH  FIRE.  29 

one  large  window  opening  on  a  balcony  fvill  of  flowers, 
which  overhung  a  garden  belonging  to  a  large  hotel  in  a 
street  behind.  There  were  books  and  needle-work,  a 
writing-table  and  a  sewing-machine  about,  and  it  was 
evidently  Miss  Lambert's  private  sitting-room.  A  stoiit, 
elderly  woman  in  black,  with  a  lace  cap  and  a  large  apron, 
who  looked  more  than  a  servant  and  less  than  a  lady,  rose 
as  they  entered,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when 
Lambert  exclaimed  in  his  hearty  manner  and  rather  pecu- 
liar French,  "  How  goes  it,  Madame  Weber  ?  I  hope  your 
cold  is  better  ;  a  summer  cold  is  worse  than  any  other,  for 
it's  out  of  season." 

Madame  thanked  monsieur,  reported  herself  nearly 
or  quite  well,  and  vanished. 

"  I  thought  you  had  left  Paris,  at  least  my  father  did," 
said  Elsie  Lambert,  giving  Glynn  one  hand,  while  the  other 
held  an  open  book — a  shabby,  well-thumbed  booL 

*'  1 8hox:Ud  not  have  left  without  calHng  to  say  good-bye, 
to  thank  you  again  for  your  deUghtfiil  songs,"  returned 
Glynn. 

She  smiled,  "Will  you  sit  down,  or* shall  we  go  into 
the  salon,  this  is  such  a  tiny  place  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  are  snug  enough  here.  And  how  are  you,  my 
dear  ?  you  haven't  said  '  good-morning '  to  your  old  father 
yet" 

"  My  old  father !  "  leaning  her  head  against  him  for  an 
instant,  with  inexpressible  loving  grace  ;  "  why,  he  is 
younger  than  I  am,  Mr.  Glynn.  When  I  have  been 
brooding  over  my  book  or  work  I  always  feel  as  if  some 
bright,  pleasant  playfellow  had  come  to  rouse  me  when 
my  father  walks  in." 

"  Thar  1 "  said  Lambert,  looking  over  with  infinite  pride 
and  a  queer  expressive  nod  and  toss  of  the  head  to  Glynn, 
as  if  to  say,  "  What  do  you  think  of  your  old  fighting, 
gaming,  hand-to-mouth  comrade  now  ?  "  "  It's  not  every 
old  cuss  that  can  find  a  nice  young  lady  to  say  as  much 
for  him,  hey  ?  "  he  said  aloud. 

"  I  quite  understand  it,"  retTimed  Glynn,  smiling,  his 
eves  full  of  tender  admiration.  What  a  curious  puzzle 
the  whole  thing  was.  How  had  Lambert  alias  Merrick, 
or  Merrick  alms  Lambert,  found  the  funds  to  keep  up  this 
establishment,  which,  modest  as  it  was,  must  cost  six  or 


80  AT  BAY. 

seven  hundred  a  year  ?  Honestly,  he  hoped,  though  from 
certain  dimly-remembered  traits  he  feared  the  lively, 
boyish  Lambert  was  not  the  most  scrupulous  of  men. 
Still,  regard  for  so  sweet,  so  refined  a  daughter  must, 
ought  to  keep  him  straight. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  yourself,  Elsie,  this 
damp,  drizzhng  afternoon  ?  you  can't  go  out." 

"  Oh  yes  I  can ;  I  was  just  asking  Madame  "Weber  if 
she  felt  well  enough  to  come  with  me  to  the  salon  ;  one 
can  find  all  weathers  in  the  pictures." 

"  A  good  idea,  faith.  Will  you  come  with  us,  Ghmn  ? 
for  I'U  be  your  escort  myself,  Elsie.  Just  let  me  get  into 
my  coat  and  boots,  and  I'U  be  with  you  in  a  twinkling." 

"  Yes,  do  come,  that  wiU  be  dehghtf ul.  And  you  too^ 
Ml-.  Glynn?" 

"  ^V"ith  infinite  pleasure." 

"  Then  I'll  make  my  toilette  before  you'd  say  Jack  Rob- 
inson," cried  Lambei-t,  as  he  left  the  room. 

"  You  are  fond  of  reading,  Miss  Lambert  ?  "  asked  Ghnn. 

"  Yes,  very  fond  ;  and  this  is  such  a  dehghtf  ul  English 
book.     I  like  it  much  better  than  French  poetry." 

"May  I  see?" 

•'  Certainly,"  handing  it  to  him. 

"  Ah,  *  The  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  that  is  a  very  old  friend  ; 
I  thought  modem  young  ladies  had  left  such  childish  pro- 
ductions far  behind." 

"  Childish !  what  can  you  mean  ?  Why,  it  is  so  clear 
and  vivid  ;  I  almost  feel  the  mountain  air  as  I  read  ;  and 
that  combat  between  Fitz-James  and  Roderick,  only  a 
man  could  have  written  that ! " 

"  I  must  read  it  again,"  said  Glynn,  half  to  himself,  as 
he  turned  over  the  pages  ;  "  I  have  not  seen  it  since  I  was 
a  boy." 

"Tlien  you  read,  too?  that  also  is  unlike  my  father's 
other  friends." 

"  I  am  afraid  your  father's  friends  do  not  stand  very 
high  in  your  estimation ;  I  earnestly  hope  I  may  find 
more  favor." 

"  I  think  I  shall  hke  you," — softly— gravely,  and  without 
a  tinge  of  coquetry,  looking  at  him  while  she  spoke. 

He  could  not  have  answered  her  lightly,  even  had  he 
been  inclined;  there  was  something  imposing  in  her 


PLATING   WITH   FIRE.  31 

straightforward  simplicity,  and  he  replied,  in  the  same 
tone  :  "  I  hope  you  wiU  try  to  like  me.  You  have  not 
read  many  English  books  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Very  few  books  of  any  kind,  and  those  chiefly  since  I 
left  school.  It  is  a  great  delight ;  but  I  read  very  slowly, 
indeed  I  am  slow  about  everything,  not  that  I  enjoy  the 
less." 

"  I  am  sure  you  learned  music  quickly." 

"  I  can  always  pick  up  airs,  and  even  long  pieces  by 
ear,  but  I  do  not  think  I  learned  by  note  quickly.'* 

"  Tell  me,"  asked  Glynn,  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse, 
"  did  you  enjoy  the  races  last  Sunday  at  Auteuil  ?  I  should 
not  imagine  racing  an  amusement  suited  to  you." 

"  But  I  was  amused  ;  the  crowd  and  the  brightness  made 
a  pleasant  picture."  Then  with  a  sudden  recollection, 
"  But  how  do  you  know  I  was  at  the  races ;  they  were 
long  ago,  before  I  knew  you  ?  " 

A  strange  thrill  of  triumph  shivered  through  Glynn's 
veins  at  this  implied  admission  that  her  acquaintance  with 
him  was  an  event  to  date  from. 

"  I  saw  you  there,  and  I  feared  you  might  have  seen 
me,  for  I  was  with  a  man  who  gazed  at  you  almost  radely, 
because  you  reminded  him  of  some  one,  and  I  did  not 
wish  you  to  associate  me  with  him  in  your  mind." 

"  Was  he  a  tall,  haughty-looking  man,  very  English,  and 
rather  distingue  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Then  I  did  see  him,  but  not  with  you  ;  it  was  just  be- 
fore we  came  away.  He  walked  up  to  the  carriage,  and 
looked  into  my  face.  I  felt  frightened.  Why  did  he  do 
it  ?  Of  whom  did  I  remind  him  ?  some  one  he  did  not 
like,  I  am  sure." 

"  That  I  cannot  teU,"  said  Glynn  thoughtfully,  while  he 
remembered  that  Deering  had  no  doubt  returned  to  gaze 
once  more  at  the  face  which  had  so  fascinated  him. 

"Do  you  know  the  gentleman  well?  Is  he — good,  I 
mean  kind,  or  hard  and  cruel  ?  He  filled  me  with  a  strange 
fear  ;  but  I  did  not  mention  it  to  my  father,  because  he 
is  io  fond,  so  anxious  about  me.^ 

"  Now  then,  go  put  on  your  bonnet,  my  darlin';  the  sufl 
is  trying  to  come  out.  We'll  take  a  fiacre,  and  have  a 
good  look  at  the  pictures,"  cried  Lambert,  breaking  in  on 
Uieir  discourse. 


32  AT  BAY. 

Elsie  was  soon  ready,  and  a  few  hours  of  simple,  pure, 
but  thorough  enjoyment  ensued.  Lambert  candidly  avow- 
ing his  indifference  to  art  generally,  secured  a  comfort- 
able seat,  and  produced  a  couple  of  newspajDers  from  his 
pocket.  To  these  he  devoted  his  attention,  telling  his 
daughter  he  would  await  her  pleasure. 

So  Glynn  was  practically  alone  with  Elsie.  He  found  a 
new  experience  in  her  genuine,  though  uncultured  appre- 
ciation of  the  paintiugs,  in  the  complete  unaffected  re^ty 
of  her  manner,  the  honesty  of  her  crude  opinions.  Then 
when  she  found  he  had  seen  many  galleries,  and  knew 
something  of  art,  the  interest  with  which  she  listened  to 
him  was  flattering  and  amusing  ;  not  that  she  was  ready 
to  accept  his  dictum  unquestioned,  she  tried  most  asser- 
tions by  the  test  of  her  own  common  sense. 

Tiie  restful  charm  of  her  gentle  composure,  while  it  en- 
chanted her  companion,  conveyed  an  impression  of  latent 
strength  which  tmconsciously  piqued  him  into  an  ii-re- 
sistible  desire  to  exert  an  influence,  a  distui'bing  influence 
over  her.  He  was  growing  conscious  that  at  the  first  sign 
of  discomposure,  the  first  fluttering  hesitation  in  her  look 
or  voice,  his  firmness,  prudence,  good  resolutions  would  go 
by  the  board.  For  the  present,  however,  all  was  safe  ;  he 
might  as  well  enjoy  himself,  in  another  week  he  would 
probably  be  far  away,  and  might  never  see  his  queer 
Calif omiau  comrade  or  his  lovely  daughter  again.  Never  ? 
Well,  he  was  not  so  sure  about  that.  Meantime  the 
severest  chaperon  could  not  find  cause  to  cavU  at  any  of 
his  words  or  looks  ;  he  was  calmly  agreeable,  and  put  forth 
his  best  powers  of  conversation,  his  memories  of  art,  of 
other  lands,  of  all  that  could  lay  hold  of  his  companion's 
imagination,  with  intuitive  skill. 

"Have  I  kept  you  too  long,  dear  father?"  exclaimed 
Elsie,  when  at  last  she  sought  her  much  enduring  parent 
and  sank  into  a  seat  beside  him. 

"  Well,  you've  been  a  trifle  longer  travelling  around 
than  greased  lightning.  I've  finished  my  two  journals, 
and  had  a  doze,  but  you  have  enjoyed  the  pictures,  eh? " 

"  Very,  very  much  ;  Mr.  Glynn  knows  a  great  deal 
about  painting,  and  he  has  explained  many  things  that 
puzzled  me.  I  never  enjoyed  the  salon  so  much  before* 
Will  you  come  with  us  again,  Mr.  Glynn  ?  " 


PLATING   WITH   FIEE.  33 

"I  shall  be  very  glad,"  he  returned  with  laudable 
sobriety.  "  But  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  leave  Paris  in  about 
ten  days,"  he  added. 

"  Then  pray  let  us  come  one  day  next  week,"  said  Elsie, 
quite  unmoved  by  this  announcement. 

"AH  right,  ma  belle,"  returned  her -father  ;  "but  we  must 
be  going  now^  it's  six  o'clock,  and  I  asked  Vincent  to  dine, 
we  have  a  httle  business  to  talk  over." 

Elsie  was  silent,  but  a  distressed  look  crept  over  her 
speaking  face.  "  If  you  want  to  talk  of  business  may  I 
not  go  to  dine  with  Antoinette  ?  " 

"  Aha !  you  perverse  little  puss,  you  are  real  unkind  to 
poor  Vincent,  who  is  a  good  fellow  enough ;  why,  every 
one  hkes  him  but  you." 

"  And  I  do  not  like  him,  nor  do  I  like  to  sing  to  him." 

"  See  that  now  !  and  he  an  old  friend  of  your  father's 
before — no,  not  quite  before  you  were  born.  "Well,  please 
yo\irself,  dear,  please— Why,"  interrupting  himself, 
"  there's  old  Monsieur  Chauvot  ;  I  must  speak  to  him." 

He  went  forward,  and  was  soon  in  deep  conversation 
with  a  stout  Frenchman,  through  whose  arm  he  passed  his 
own,  and  they  walked  on  together,  Elsie  and  Glynn 
following. 

"  So  Vincent  is  one  of  your  father's  friends  who  do  not 
find  favor  in  your  eyes.  What  has  he  done?"  asked 
Glynn. 

"  Nothing  ;  I  cannot  account  for  my  dislike,  but  it  is 
here,"  pressing  her  hand  on  her  heart,  "  and  will  not  go 
awa}-." 

"  And  I  with  as  little  reason  share  it,"  returned  Glynn. 

"Do  you?  I  am  glad,  which  is  very  wrong,  but  it 
comforts  me  to  find  some  one  else  unreasonable.  Madame 
Davilliers  and  Antoinette  think  him  quite  nice  and  agree- 
able." 

At  the  door  of  Madame  Davilliers'  residence  Elsie 
paused. 

"  I  may  as  well  go  in  now,"  she  said  to  Lambert.  "  Will 
you  not  come  in  and  say  a  little  word  to  madame  ?  and 
you,  too,  Mr.  Glynn,  she  will  be  deHghted  to  see  yoa" 

Glynn  assented.     After  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  lively 
talk  amidst  a  circle  of  evidently  solid  and  respectable  vis* 
itors  he  was  cordially  requested  to  call  again,  and  left  the 
3 


84  AT   BAY. 

house  vnth  Lambert,  feeling  that  another  link  had  been 
added  to  the  magic  chain  which  was  twining  itself  around 
him. 

"  She's  an  elegant  woman,  faith,"  said  Lambert  with  the 
air  of  a  connoisseur,  as  he  left  the  house  with  Glynn,  "  and 
so  is  the  demoiselle.  I  always  count  it  real  good  luck  that 
Elsie  fell  in  with  them,  for  between  you  and  me  and  the 
post,  none  of  my  acquaintances  were  just  suited  to  intro- 
duce a  young  lady  into  society.  It's  been  uphill  work  / 
can  tell  you,  but  Madame  D.  has  been  no  end  of  a  help  to 
me.  Why,  you'd  never  have  the  faintest  notion  of  all  the 
whim- whams  she  has  put  me  up  to !  Wouldn't  you  think 
now  a  girl  would  be  aU  right  in  her  father's  house  vvith  a 
respectable  young  woman  hke  Celestine  to  wait  on  her  ? 
Not  a  bit  of  it.  Madame  says  I  must  have  a  sort  of  a 
lady  to  be  a  comjDanion  to  Elsie,  and  so  she  found  Madame 
Weber  for  us.  Now  they  are  going  to  marry  Antoinette 
to  a  very  respectable  wealthy  young  Vicomte  that  "will  be 
another  backer  for  Elsie.  I  believe  preliminaries  are 
nearly  arranged,  and  then  he'U  be  presented  as  a  pre- 
tendant." 

"  What  a  hideous  system  it  is,"  ejaculated  Glynn. 

,"I  don't  see  that  at  all,"  returned  Lambert ;  "a  good 
girl  will  get  fond  of  any  man  who  makes  her  a  kind  hus- 
band, and  God  only  knows  the  relief  it  is  to  a  pai'ent  to 
make  sure  that  all's  right,  and  see,  too,  one's  girl  safe 
under  the  protection  of  a  strong  man."  He  spoke  with 
feeling. 

"  There  are  some  better  aspects,  I  confess,  to  the  mariage 
de  convenance,"  said  Gljam,  "but  the  worse  outweigh 
them." 

"  Well,  I  am  inclined  for  the  system,  though  our  Amur- 
rican  girls  would  never  stand  it." 

"Are  you  American?"  asked  Ghom,  encouraged  by 
his  companion's  confidential,  regretfvd  tone  to  put  the 
question, 

•  "  A  naturalized  American.  I  was  obliged  by  the  perse- 
cutions of  a  cruel  government  to  quit  my  native  land  as  a 
mere  boy,  and  leave  behind  me  the  life  of  a  gentleman, 
for  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  tlie  Lamberts  of  Ballybough  are  as 
good  a  stock  as  any  in  L-eland  ;  that's  five-and-thirty 
years  ago  ;  between  you  and  me  I  had  a  hard,  sometimes 


PLATING   WITH   FIEE.  35 

a  desperate  figlit  of  it  since,  but  I  keep  all  that  to 
myself.  Madame  D.  tliere  thinks  nie  a  big  man  entirely ; 
it's  all  the  better  for  her,  and  all  I  care  for  is  my  jewel 
Elsie." 

This  brought  them  to  Lambert's  door.  "  Honor  bright," 
said  he,  giving  his  hand  to  Glynn,  "  I  know  I  may  trust 
yoM." 

Glynn  shook  hands  cordially,  and  went  towards  his 
hotel,  musing  on  tiie  curious  contradictions  displayed  by 
his  former  friend,  and  tiie  incongruity  of  being  made  a 
confidant  by  the  adoring  father  of  the  girl  against  whose 
subtle  charm  he  had  determined  to  steel  himself. 

A  fortnight  had  gone  by  swiftly,  too  swiftly,  and  Glynn 
was  still  in  Paris.  True,  the  plans  which  would  have 
compelled  his  presence  in  Berlin  were  changed,  and  he 
was  consequently  detained  a  little  longer  in  the  French 
capital,  but  he  was  now  free,  and  had  some  weeks  at  his 
own  disposal. 

For  various  plausible  reasons  he  was  frequently  at  the 
Rue  de  L'Ev.  que,  and  also  a  welcome  visitor  at  Madame 
Davillicrs',  who  declared  him  worthy  of  being  a  French- 
man. He  was  always  careful  to  bestow  his  whole  atten- 
tion on  her  wlien  in  her  presence,  and  did  not  shock  her 
sense  of  propriety  by  throwing  away  any  small  polite- 
nesses on  the  young  ladies. 

His  happiest  moments,  however,  were  those  in  which 
he  found  Elsie  sitting  at  her  work  or  at  the  piano  with 
Madame  Weber  and  her  knitting  established  beside  her. 
Then  they  talked  long  and  confidentially  on  many  topics, 
sometimes  in  French  to  include  the  good  Alsacian,  but 
more  often  in  English  ;  and  Elsie  would  practice  her 
songs  while  he  sat  in  a  deep  low  chair  and  dreamed,  and 
was  lapped  into  a  state  of  fevei-ish,  vmeasy  delight.  Every 
day  the  difficulty  of  tearing  liimself  away  grew  greater, 
and  still  the  quiet  unconsciousness  of  Elsie,  the  easy, 
friendly  tone  which  she  preserved  toAvards  him  convinced 
him  that  whatever  of  pain  might  result  from  their  inter- 
course would  be  unshared  by  her. 

Glynn  was  often  Lambert's  guest ;  and  more  than  once 
entertained  the  father  and  daughter  at  some  one  of  the 
pleasant  restaui'ants,  in  the  6ois,  or  on  the  Champs  Elysees. 


36  AT  BAY. 

Lambert,  thougli  speaking  frankly  enough  of  himself, 
never  explained  very  distinctly  what  his  employment  was  j 
nor  did  he  make  any  allusion  to  the  position  or  occupa^ 
tion  of  his  former  friend  and  comrade,  as  he  was  fond  of 
calling  Glynn. 

"  I  have  a  wonderful  piece  of  news  for  you,  Mr.  GhTin," 
Baid  Elsie  one  fine  warm  afternoon,  when  he  had  been 
ushered  through  the  orange-scented  vestibule  to  the  salon 
where  she  was  sitting  beside  her  work-table,  with  a  book 
Ghom  had  lent  her  in  her  hands,  and  she  motioned 
towards  a  chair  opposite  her. 

"Indeed!  what  may  it  be?  Good-morning,  Madame 
Weber,"  bowing.  "  May  I  try  to  divine  it,  Miss  Lambert  ? 
Has  Mr.  Lambert  agreed  to  take  you  to  the  Pyrenees  or 
to  England  ?  "  looking  into  her  eyes.  "  No !  then  he  will 
go  for  a  month  or  two  to  Switzerland  ?    No  ?    Tlien  yom* 

old  friend  Mrs. ,  I  forget  the  name,  who  used  to  take 

care  of  you,  is  coming  to  Paris  ?  No  ?  Then  I  am  at  the 
end  of  my  conjectures.  You  see  I  always  read  'no'  in 
yom*  eyes." 

"  You  could  never  guess !  My  father  has  gone  away  to 
Havre,  quite  early  this  morning,  and  will  not  return  for 
three  or  four  days.  He  has  never  left  me  since  we  came 
to  live  here  till  now,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how  strange 
and  restless  and  half  frightened  I  feel ;  but  ]\Iadame 
Davilliers  has  kindly  asked  me  to  stay  with  her,  and  I  go 
there  to  dinner  to-day.  I  should  have  gone  sooner,  but  I 
thought  you  might  call,  so  I  waited." 

Her  perfect  easy  candor  was  charming,  yet  mortifying 
to  his  amour  prvjDre. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  ;  I  am  glad  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  of  your  intended  movements  from  your- 
self ;  it  would  have  been  an  awful  shock  to  have  found 
every  one  gone  ;  but,"  looking  keenly  at  her,  "  what  have 
you  been  doing  or  suffering  ?  You  are  pale.  There  is  a 
weary  look  in  your  eyes." 

"  And  you  are  like  my  dear  father,  too  ready  to  think  I 
must  be  suffering  or  unhappy,  or  something  dreadful,  if  I 
look  a  shade  paler  than  usual.  I  am  quite  well."  She 
smiled,  stopped  abruptly,  let  her  eyes  droop,  while  the 
color  rose  softly  in  her  cheek,  and  her  smile  was  replaced 
by  a  serious,  almost  sad  expression  in  the  curves  of  her 
mouth. 


PLATING  WITH  FIRE.  37 

**  You  have  something  to  tell  me  ?  something  that  dis- 
turbs you.     Sj)eak,  you  may  trust  me." 

"  I  am  sure  I  can.  Well,  I  was  foolishly  frightened 
yesterday.  We,  Madame  Weber  and  I,  had  gone  to  hear 
the  band  play  in  the  Tuileries  Gardens.  It  was  very 
pleasant  under  the  trees,  and  we  sat  a  long  time.  Just  as 
we  rose  to  return  home,  two  gentlemen  came  up  from  a 
side  walk  ;  one  I  recognized  at  a  little  distance  to  be  Mr. 
Vincent ;  the  other,  when  they  came  nearer,  I  saw  was  the 
same  man  whom  I  noticed  at  Auteud  ;  you  know  who  I 
mean?  He  looked  at  me  so  strangely,  I  felt  uneasy, 
frightened,  and  I  hurried  Madame  Weber  away.  They 
must  have  taken  some  shorter  path,  for  when  we  reached 
the  gate  opposite  the  Rue  de  la  Paix  they  came  upon  us 
again.  Mi\  Vincent  raised  his  hat,  and  so  did  the  other, 
and  stared  at  me  with  such  an  odd  piercing  look  of  dis- 
like and  doubt — Oh  !  I  cannot  forget  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Madame  Weber,  gathering  from  Elsie's  ex- 
l>ression,  and  the  words  "  Tuileries  Gardens,"  that  she  was 
relating  the  events  of  yesterday,  "  that  gentleman  there 
was  not  at  all  polite  ;  he  glared  at  mademoiselle,  Mon 
Dieu  !  like  a  savage  beast ;  nevertheless  he  was  distin- 
guished, and  no  doubt  noble." 

"  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken,"  said  Glynn  ;  "  the  man 
whom  you  saw  at  the  races  left  Paris  neai'ly  three  weeks 
ago.  I  should  most  probably  have  seen  him  had  he  re- 
turned.    You  must  have  been  mistaken." 

Elsie  shook  her  head.  "  I  could  never  be  mistaken  in 
that  man,"  she  said. 

Glynn  was  greatly  struck  by  the  reappearance  of  Deer- 
ing,  but  he  threw  off  the  impression.  It  was  probably  an 
illusion  on  the  part  of  Elsie.  That  Deering,  the  proudest 
of  men,  should  be  walking  with  so  doubtful  a  personage 
as  Vincent  seemed  almost  incredible.  He  would  make 
inquiries,  however.  Meantime  he  addressed  himself  to 
soothe  Elsie's  evident  uneasiness. 

"After  all,  granting  you  are  right,  what  have  you  to 
fear  ?  Your  admirer  can  only  look  ;  he  dare  not  annoy 
you,  or  anj-  attempt  at  annoyance  could  soon  be  put  a 
stop  to.  Indeed,  I  am  sure  Deering  is  too  much  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  man  of  the  world  to  outrage  good  manners 
in  any  way.' 


38  AT  BAY. 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"  Deering  of  Denham  ;  rather  \  personage  in  York- 
shire.    I  know  him  and  his  wife." 

"  He  is  manied  ?  "  as  if  a  httle  surprised.  "  Yes,  I  dare 
say  I  am  foohsh  to  be  afraid  of  anything,  but  I  am  some- 
times sach  a  coward.  I  suppose  it  is  the  effect  of  the  ter- 
rible teri'or  I  suffered  when  almost  a  baby." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Glynn,  his  curiosity  profoundly  stirred, 
and  feeling  more  than  ever  convinced  there  was  some  very 
unusual  story  attached  to  the  sweet,  graceful  daughter 
of  his  former  rowdy  acquaintance.  "  I  suppose  I  ought 
not  to  ask  you  how  and  where  you  encpuntered  such  a 
shock?" 

"  I  do  not  mind  speaking  of  it  to  you  ;  it  is  a  sort  of 
relief,  for  I  have  seen  you  look  surj^rised  when  I  have 
started  and  shuddered  at  trifles.  I  do  not  wish  you  to 
think  me  silly." 

"  Silly  ! — do  you  know  that  you  seem  to  me  the  imper- 
sonation of  tranquil,  womanly  wisdom  ?  " 

A  laugh  so  merry  and  spontaneous  rippled  over  lip  and 
cheek,  and  flashed  from  her  eyes,  that  for  an  instant  Glynn 
feared  he  had  erred  by  appearing  to  exaggerate. 

"  That  you  should  think  so  ignorant  a  girl  as  I  am  wise, 
is  too  funny,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  AVisdom  is  a  gift  that  may  be  improved,  not  created 
by  learning,"  said  Gtynn  ;  "  but  as  you  permit  me  to  ask, 
what  was  the  terror  to  which  you  allude  ?  " 

"  It  was  so  long  ago  that  my  memory  of  it  is  mere  con- 
fusion. When  I  was  three  or  four  years  old  the  blacks 
came  and  burnt  our  house,  away  in  Australia  ;  they  killed 
some  people  too.  Then  I  remember  being  on  a  horse  and 
cHnging  to  my  father.  I  think  I  was  quite  out  of  my 
mind,  for  I  remember  being  afraid  of  my  own  dear  father, 
and  thinking  him  changed  and  different  from  what  he 
used  to  be.  Oh,  it  is  all  so  confused  !  Then  there  was  a 
long  voyage  and  great  quiet ;  yet  I  used  to  scream  if  I 
were  left  alone  for  a  moment.  Sometimes  it  seems  true 
that  I  had  two  long  sea  voyages,  and  tliat  my  only  com- 
fort was  to  crouch  in  my  father's  arms.  Then  came  a 
long  period — long  and  peaceful — in  the  sweet  fresh  coun- 
try, where  I  grew  strong  and  fearless,  though  I  always 
had  panics.    I  had  one  the  first  time  I  met  that  gentle- 


PLATmo  -WITH   FIRE.  39 

man's  eyes,  and  sometimes  I  feel  afraid  with  Mr  Vincent. 
I  was  very  happy  with  IMi's.  Kellett ;  she  is  the  good 
friend  who  took  care  of  me  till  my  father  put  me  in  the 
convent.  He  used  to  come  and  see  me  from  time  to  time, 
and  when  I  saw  how  much  he  loved  me  T  grew  to  love 
him  with  my  whole  heart.  That  is  all  I  know  about  nay 
ovsTi  life." 

"  And  it  is  enough.  You  must  banish  aU  sense  of  fear — 
life  promises  to  be  fair  and  smooth  for  you." 

"  I  hope  so  ;  but  curious  thiiUs  of  terror  steal  through 
me  sometimes.  I  never  like  to  ask  my  father  about  that 
dreadful  night.  I  think  my  poor  mother  died  then,  and 
he  cannot  bear  to  speak  of  it.  It  was  that  fright  I  sup- 
pose that  made  me  a  little  slow  and  dull ;  but  thank  God  I 
can  and  do  enjoy  a  great  deal." 

"  It  would  be  a  frightful  injustice  if  you  could  not ; 
and  you  must  throw  your  fears  to  the  winds.  You  are 
formed  to  win  friends ;  dream  only  of  happiness  and 
affection  I  May  I  wait,  and  escort  you  to  Madame  Davil- 
liers'?" 

This  request  was  prompted  by  a  strange  inexpressible 
reluctance  to  leave  her  alone  in  her  own  apartment  during 
her  father's  absence. 

"  I  am  turning  driveller,"  he  thought ;  "  am  I  on  the 
verge  of  making  a  fool  of  myself?  Not  with  my  eyes 
open, — yet  I  would  risk  a  good  deal  to  insure  this  fair 
delicate  creature  from  shock  or  real  danger, — for  with 
such  a  father,  such  dubious  surroundings,  her  future  is,  to 
say  the  least,  unpromising." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  should  be  very  glad  if  you  wiU  come  with 
Tis,  and  then  you  will  come  and  see  Madame  Davilliers 
while  I  am  vfith  her?  My  father  will  be  home  on  Mon- 
day, in  the  evening.  How  delightful  it  wiU  be  to  have 
him  back  again.  Ah !  he  is  so  good  to  me.  I  am  some- 
times oppressed  to  think  how  dearly  he  loves  me.  I  sup- 
pose it  is  because  I  was  so  weak,  so  nearly  imbecUe  when 
a  child.  Shall  we  go  to  Madame  DaviUiers'  now  ?  I  am 
quite  ready." 

"  When  you  like  ;  but  first  do  me  a  great  favor,  sing  me 
a  song  before  you  go  away  among  a  set  of  strangers,  a 
song  all  to  myself." 

Elsie  smiled,  and  turning  to  the  piano  at  once,  complied^ 


40  AT  BAY. 

choosing  a  Latin  hymn  expressive  of  faith  in  Divine  pro- 
tection, one  of  those  she  was  accustomed  to  sing  in  her 
convent  school  days. 

When  Glynn  had  escorted  her  and  Madame  Weber  to 
the  DaviUiers'  residence,  he  walked  to  the  hotel  where  Mr. 
and  Lady  Frances  Deering  were  in  the  habit  of  staying, 
and  inquired  if  Mr.  Deering  had  returned.  "  No,"  the 
waiter  said,  "  nor  did  they  expect  monsieur,  who  had  left 
more  than  a  fortnight  ago." 

"  She  must  have  been  mistaken,"  mused  Gljnan,  as  he 
went  on  to  his  own  quarters.  "  Deering  could  not  endure 
the  companionship  of  such  a  man  as  Vincent,  and  what 
object  could  he  have  in  following  a  girl  hke  Elsie  Lam- 
bert? She  is  a  sensitive,  timid  soul,  more  so  than  I 
imagined,  yet  there  are  possibilities  of  heroism  in  her. 
A  most  dehghtful  companion,  with  fresh  discoveries  of 
sheltered  nooks  and  mossy  dells  of  character  at  every  step 
in  our  acquaintance.  I  will  not  leave  Paris  until  I  see  her 
safe  imder  her  father's  wing  again  ;  then,  if  I  have  an 
ouMce  of  common  sense  left,  I  will  fly  !  " 

Reaching  his  own  room,  he  found  among  others  a  let- 
ter from  Lady  Gethin,  asking  the  real  reason  of  his  pro- 
longed stay  in  Paris.  Having  a  spare  half -hour  he  replied 
at  once : 

"  I  am  trying  to  put  the  pieces  of  a  puzzle  together  ;  I 
am  not  sure  I  shall  succeed,  but  am  going  to  give  myself 
a  few  days  longer,  then  I  shall  come  and  report  proceed- 
ings. I  wonder  what  solution  you  will  suggest.  Till  we 
meet  then,  I  can  say  no  more  on  the  subject.  Have  you 
seen  the  Deerings  ?  Are  they  both  in  London  ?  I  assure 
you  I  long  to  bring  my  doubts  and  suspicions  to  the  test 
of  your  experience  and  acumen. 

*•  Ever  your  devoted  Nephew, 

"Hugh  Glynn." 


CHAPTER  m 

OLD   SCOBES. 

Madame  Davtlijees'  was  a  very  pleasant  household.  0} 
coiu'se  it  had  not  the  ease  and  freedom  that  reigns  in  an 
English  home,  at  least  for  young  people.  Antoinette  and 
her  friend  were  treated  with  the  kind  of  affectionate  in- 
dulgence suited  to  infants  of  tender  years,  but  watched 
also  and  guarded  with  the  care  due  to  creatures  of  the 
same  immature  age. 

To  Lambert  and  his  daughter  madame  extended  a 
wide  indulgence, — "  Americans,  you  know,"  in  an  explan- 
atory tone,  was  always  her  comment  on  any  eccentricity  of 
theirs.  She  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  settle  Elsie  judi- 
ciously, as  she  felt  convinced  she  would  have  a  goodly 
dower,  and  deeply  regretted  that  she  had  not  a  son  old 
enough  to  demand  the  charming  mademoiselle  in  mar- 
riage. Lambert,  however,  showed  himself  reluctant  to 
accept  any  of  her  suggestions,  and  she  therefore  con- 
cluded that  he  had  other  plans  in  view. 

Elsie  Lambert  was  very  happy  with  Antoinette.  They 
practiced  duets  together,  and  traced  patterns,  and  Elsie 
read  aloud  to  her  friend  when  she  was  at  work,  or  re- 
peated to  her  the  stories  and  poems  she  had  lately  read 
in  EngHsh,  on  Glynn's  recommendation.  Elsie  was  the 
master  spirit  of  the  two,  though  Antoinette  was  by  far 
the  bravest  and  most  self-possessed  in  society. 

But  amid  her  contentment  Elsie  was  conscious  of  an 
extraordinary  want — a  void  which  nothing  sufficed  to  fill ; 
it  was  the  want  of  those  quiet  conversations  with  Glynn, 
each  of  which  awoke  new  ideas,  new  aspirations,  new 
life.  He  called  as  he  had  promised,  and  was  received 
most  graciously  by  Madame  Davilliers  in  her  salon.  Both 
girls  were  present.  Glynn,  however,  knew  well  he  must 
not  speak  more  than  a  few  civil  words  to  them,  and  even 
his  inquiries  for  Lambert   he  felt  bound  to  utter  in, 

(41) 


42  AT  BAT. 

French.  But  Elsie's  expressive  eyee  told  liim  muck 
They  said  frankly  and  innocently,  "  I  wish  I  could  talk  to 
you.  I  wish  I  dare  speak  as  usual.  This  is  all  rather 
tiresome."  And  he  longed  unutterably  to  take  her  out 
for  a  long  ramble  in  the  hois,  her  arm  through  his  oyra., 
her  sweet  candid  face  uplifted  to  his,  that  she  might  the 
better  comprehend  the  meaning  of  his  words ;  but  he 
must  not  think  of  such  things.  He  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful, especially  thankful,  that  her  feelings  towards  him 
were  so  calm  and  friendly.  If  he  were  to  read  anything 
of  tenderness,  of  passion,  in  those  lovely  blue  eyes  of 
hers,  why,  chaos  would  be  come  again  I  For  to  call  Lam- 
bert father-in-law  would  be  chaotic  1 

"  How  is  M.  Vincent  ? "  asked  Madame  Da^illiers,  as 
Glynn  rose  to  take  leave  one  afternoon;  "  he  has  not  pre- 
sented himself  lately.  He  is  a  most  interesting  man,  and 
quite  French  in  his  knowledge  of  hf e  and  character  1  I 
shall  beg  him  to  give  himself  the  trouble  of  dining  with 
us  on  Wednesday  next,  and  I  hope  that  you  too,  monsieur, 
will  do  us  the  pleasure  of  joining  our  little  party.  "Wed- 
nesday is  the  anniversary  of  oiu'  wedding-day,  and  M. 
Davilhers  proposes  to  make  a  little  fete  in  its  honor.  If 
fine  we  shall  dine  at  the  *  Grande  Cascade '  at  six  o'clock  ; 
we  hope  our  good  friend  Monsieur  Lambert  wiU  return  in 
time  for  our  reunion." 

"  It  is  also  the  anniversary  of  Lodi,  and  the  Grande 
Cascade  will  be  illuminated,"  cried  Antoinette.  "  It  will  be 
superb." 

"  Yes,  do  come,  it  will  be  charming,"  said  Elsie. 

"  I  need  no  persuasion,"  replied  Gljrm.  "  I  shall  be  but 
too  happy  to  join  your  party,  madame." 

During  the  days  which  intervened  Glynn  kept  a  sharp 
lookout  wherever  he  went,  both  for  Peering  and  Vinoent, 
but  in  vain  ;  he  saw  no  trace  of  either.  The  weather  was 
variable,  and  Glynn  offered  up  earnest  prayers  for  sun- 
shine and  blue  skies  on  the  eagerly  anticipated  Wednesday. 
There  were  opportunities  for  a  teie-d-tete  in  the  freedom 
of  a  restaurant  dinner  which  were  not  to  be  found  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  a  private  dwelling. 

The  fates  were  propitious.  Wednesday  broke  bright 
and  warm,  and  most  of  the  party  were  assembled  when 
Glynn  drove  up  to  the  restaurant  of  the  Grande  Cascade. 


OLD   SCORES.  4:S 

Madame  Davilliers  was  richly  attired  in  crimson  and  black 
brocade,  with  white  plumes  in  her  bonnet ;  her  daughter 
in  diaphanous  dove-color  and  pink  ;  while  Miss  Lambert, 
who  was  unusually  animated,  looked  lovely  in  soft,  clear 
wliite  Indian  muslin  over  spring-like  green,  with  abun- 
dance of  delicate  lace,  and  a  poetic  little  bonnet  decorated 
with  violets,  which  showed  the  wavy  richness  of  her  golden- 
brown  hair. 

She  was  listening  with  an  amused  smile  to  some  remarks 
of  Monsieur  DavOliers,  a  good-humored  looking  and 
rather  ponderous  man,  with  a  morsel  of  red  ribbon  in  his 
button-hole. 

Glynn  was  warmly  greeted  by  all,  including  Vincent, 
who,  to  liis  (Glynn's)  annoyance,  was  amongst  the  guests, 
magnificently  got  up  in  the  height  of  fashion,  with  a 
heavy  emerald  ring  fastening  his  necktie,  a  brilliant 
diamond  on  one  little  finger,  an  onyx  signet-ring  on  the 
other  and  a  massive  gold  pencil-case  and  bunch  of  charms 
dangling  from  his  guard-chain. 

"Is  it  not  unfortunate?  "  said  Elsie  in  a  low  tone,  when 
Glynn  succeeded  in  getting  near  her  ;  "  my  father  cannot 
return  till  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  it  is  too  bad  that  he  cannot  come,  and  that  Vincent 
can." 

"  Do  not  look  so  angry,"  she  returned  with  a  smile.  "  I 
am  sorry  too,  and  yet  I  don't  know  why;  he  is  always 
very  polite  and  obliging,  and  seems  to  be  great  friends 
with  my  father." 

"  There  are  instincts — "  began  Glynn  ;  but  dinner  was 
announced,  and  he  was  directed  to  escort  a  brilliant  dame, 
who  made  a  determined  attack  upon  him,  and  would  not 
shai'e  his  attention  with  any  one. 

•  Vincent  was  placed  next  Miss  Lambert,  and  appeared 
to  succeed  in  entertaining  her.  Altogether  Glynn  felt 
provoked,  and  by  no  means  amused,  as  he  had  anticipated. 

Wlien  dinner  was  over  Vincent  proposed  that  they 
should  take  their  coffee  in  the  veranda,  which  was  only 
raised  a  ctep  above  the  gardens  in  front  of  the  restaurant, 
and  from  whence  they  could  see  the  spray  of  the  waterfall 
glittering  in  the  light  of  the  setting  sun.  This  was  readily 
agreed  to,  and  in  the  movement  w;hich  ensued  Glynn  con- 
trived to  place  himself  near  Elsie. 


44  AT  BAT. 

*'  "What  an  iu  terminable  dinner ! "  he  exclaimed. 

*'  Yet  you  had  a  very  agreeable  neighbor  ?  " 

"  If  a  forty  horse-power  of  talk  constitutes  agreeability, 
I  had.  I  hope  your  father  will  return  to-morrow.  It 
seems  such  an  age  since  I  heard  you  sing." 

"  But  I  sang  to  you  on  Sunday." 

"  To  me  ?  no,  to  a  crowd  of  strangers,  of  whom  I  was 
one." 

"  /  do  not  consider  you  a  stranger." 

"  Thank  you  ;  you  are  infinitely  good  to  say  so,"  gazing 
into  her  eyes.  "  It  is  a  great  additional  chai'm  to  hear 
you  in  your  own  room,  with  only  your  father  and  myself 
for  audience.     Do  you  think  me  selfish  for  saying  so  ?  " 

"  No  ;  yet  music  is  music,  wherever  you  hear  it." 

"  Your  music  is  something  different  from  all  other," 
began  Glynn,  scarcely  able  to  keep  back  the  imjn-udent 
expressions  which  rushed  to  his  lips,  so  deHghted  was  he 
to  have  a  few  words  aside  with  her. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  go  away  v  ntil  my  father  returns," 
said  Elsie,  not  seeming  to  heed  his  compliment ;  "  he 
would  be  sorry  to  miss  you." 

"I  shall  certainly  not  leave  until  he  returns,"  said 
Glynn,  feeling  himself  in  some  odd  way  bound  to  watch 
over  Elsie  in  Lambert's  absence.  "  Don't  you  think  he 
will  come  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Vincent  seems  to  think  it  probable  he  may  be 
delayed." 

*'  Indeed !  Vincent  appeared  to  have  a  good  deal  to  say 
for  himself  at  dinner." 

"  Yes  ;  he  seems  to  be  looking  for  some  one,"  for  Vin- 
cent had  gone  to  the  edge  of  the  veranda,  and  was  siu- 
veying  the  various  groups  standing  or  walking  about  the 
httle  lawn  in  front  of  the  cafe-  Presently  he  bowed  and 
smiled,  saying  to  Madame  Davilliers  : 

"  I  see  an  English  friend  of  mine,  apparently  alone  ; 
have  I  your  permission  to  present  him  to  you  ?  He  is  a 
man  of  fashion  and  distinction — a  Mr.  Travers. 

"  But  certainly,"  cried  Madame  Davilliers,  "  any  friend 
of  yours,  dear  sir " 

Vincent  stepped  forward,  while  Glynn  felt  a  thrill  of 
angry  anticipation.  In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  ac- 
companied by — ^Deering  1    Vincent  at  once  presented  him 


OLD  SCORES.  45 

to  Madame  Davilliers,  who  put  on  her  most  elegant  man- 
ner to  receive  so  distinguished  an  addition  to  her  party  ; 
and  Elsie's  eyes  sought  Glynn,  saying  as  distinctly  as  eyes 
could  say,  "  You  see  I  was  right." 

Madame's  elegancies  were  thrown  away  upon  Deering. 
He  understood  but  little  French,  and  only  bowed  with  a 
sort  of  haughty  courtesy  to  his  smiimg  hostess. 

"  Ah,  Glynn,  you  here  ? "  Le  exclaimed,  turning  from 
her  to  his  compatriot.     *'  I  fancied  you  were  at  Berlin." 

"  And  /  imagined  ]jou  preparing  for  the  next  general 
election,  which  is  not  far  off,  I  suspect,''  returned  Glynn. 
"  I  hope  you  left  Lady  Frances  and  your  boy  quite  well." 

"They  are  all  right,"  returned  Deering,  siiortly,  and 
even  as  he  spoke  Lis  c}'es  were  rivctted  on  Miss  Lambert 
with  a  strange,  watchful  gaze,  at  once  admiring  and  bos- 
tile.  The  color  slowly  rose  in  her  cheek,  and  she  locked 
away  in  evident  embarrassment,  while  Glynn  felt  an  almost 
irresistible  impulse  to  take  him  by  the  neck  and  tiu'ow 
him  out  of  the  circle  into  which  he  had  intruded.  But 
civilization  compelled  them  to  exchange  polite  sentences 
instead  of  following  their  natural  tendency — to  fly  at  each 
other's  throats. 

"Pray  introduce  me  to  your  EngHsh  friends,"  said 
Deering  to  Vincent,  with  a  certain  air  of  condescension. 

"  The  only  English-speaking  member  of  our  party 
besides  Mr.  Glynn  is  this  young  lady,  and  I  claim  her  as 
American.  Miss  Lambert,  allow  me  to  present  Mr.  Trav- 
ers  Deering  to  you." 

Glynn  noticed  that  he  used  both  names  this  time.  Was 
the  omission  of  one  of  tiiem  at  fir^t  intentional  ? 

"  You  must  take  pity  on  me,  and  allow  me  to  sit  beside 
you,"  said  Deering,  in  a  carefully  softened  tone  ;  "  for, 
unfortunately,  I  cannot  speak  French,  and  feel  awkward 
when  I  am  alongside  one  of  our  Hvely  neighbors." 

He  drew  a  chair  by  her  as  he  spoke,  laying  aside  his 
hat  and  taking  his  place  with  the  easy,  well-bred  decision 
of  a  man  perfectly  sui*e  of  himself,  of  his  social  standing, 
and  his  general  acceptability.  Elsie  gazed  at  him  as  if 
fascinated,  and  Glynn  could  not  help  thinking  how  hand- 
some and  lordly  and  thoroughbred  he  looked,  ji;st  the 
style  of  man  to  captivate  a  girl's  imagination, 

*•  Do  you  know.  Miss  Lambert,  I  have  some  very  humbla 


4:6  AT  BAT. 

apologies  to  offer  you  for  my  involuntary  rudeness.  I  can 
only  urge  that  when  I  saw  you  at  the  races,  I  was  so 
struck  by  your  remarkable  likeness  to  a  very  channing 
woman  I  knew  long  ago,  that  I  reahy  could  not  keep  my 
eyes  in  order." 

"  You  did  not  offend  me,"  said  Elsie,  with  a  quick  little 
sigh,  and  making  a  slight  unconscious  movement,  as  if  to 
draw  nearer  Glynn.  "  I  am  glad  I  reminded  you  of  some 
one  you  Hked" 

"  I  did  not  say  I  UTced  her,  though  she  was  charming," 
returned  Deering,  with  a  searching  glance  and  a  some- 
what cynical  smile. 

Elsie  did  not  reply  ;  she  looked  wonderingly  at  him  out 
of  her  great  serious  blue  eyes,  as  if  at  some  curious,  dan- 
gerous creatirre. 

"  So  I  am  to  consider  myself  pardoned  ?"  resumed  Deer^ 
ing. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive."     Then  turning  to  Glyna, 

she  asked,  "  Do  you  think  the  fireworks  wiU  soon  begin  ? ' 

"  Not  until  it  is  considerably  darker.     I  suppose  we 

ought  to  go  out  to  see  them  ;  we  shall  only  have  a  ^erj/ 

naiTow  view  here." 

"  Yes,  we  can't  possibly  stay  in  this  coraer,"  exclaimed 
Deering,  looking  round  impatiently. 

"  Oh,  I  fancy  madame  will  make  a  move,"  said  Vincent, 
who  was  hovering  about  in  his  character  of  sponsor  ta 
his  aristocratic  friencL 

"I  did  not  know  you  had  so  distinguished  a  circle 
of  French  acquaintances,"  resumed  Deering,  addressing 
Glynn,  and  glancing  with  slightly  elevated  eyebrows  to- 
wards Madame  Davilliers  and  her  friends.  The  glance 
caught  that  lady's  attention,  and  induced  her  to  turn  the 
fire  of  her  conversation  upon  him.  To  which  Deering  re- 
plied, with  the  assistance  of  Miss  Lambert  and  Glynn. 
On  her  own  account  Elsie  said  very  little,  and  seemed  to 
have  lost  the  brightness  that  animated  her  before  and 
during  dinner. 

/At  length  the  first  rocket  rushed  towards  the  sky,  and 
burst  into  a  cluster  of  many-colored  stars,  whereupon 
every  one  jumped  up  and  made  for  the  garden,  the  lawn, 
the  roadway. 

"  Pray  take  my  arm,"  said  Glynn  to  Elsie  the  moment 


OLD   SCORES.  4'' 

he  saw  the  stampede  beginning.  "  It  may  not  be  easy  to 
keep  together  in  the  crowd." 

"  That  is  not  fair,  Glynn,"  said  Deering  with  a  smile 
"  You  appropriate  the  only  lady  who  can  speak  English, 
and  condemn  me  to  silence  for  the  next  hoiu\" 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Glynn  coolly  ;  "  but  in  Captain 
liambert's  absence  I  consider  myself  in  some  degree  re- 
sponsible for  his  daughter," 

"  Antoinette  speaks  a  little  EngUsh,"  said  Elsie,  "  and 
will  be  charmed  to  talk  to  you — I  mean  Mademoiselle 
Davilliers,"  looking  towards  her. 

"  Pray  do  not  trouble  yourself,"  returned  Deering  hasti- 
ly, "  I  can  exist  for  half  an  hour  in  an  unattached  condi- 
tion ;  besides,  one  can  always  pick  up  the  crumbs  which 
fall  from  rich  men's  tables."  This  with  an  insolent  laugh, 
which  grated  on  Glynn,  as  did  Deering's  whole  tone  ;  it 
conveyed  the  idea  that  he  was  amongst  peoj)le  whom  he 
did  not  respect  sufficiently  to  feel  any  restraint,  and,  more- 
over, that  he  was  in  a  bad  temper. 

Elsie  did  not  require  a  second  invitation.  Glynn  was 
amused  and  touched  by  the  readiness  with  which  she  took 
and  almost  clung  to  his  arm  as  they  sallied  forth  and 
mixed  with  the  crowd.  Deering;  true  to  his  avowed  in- 
tention of  "  picking  up  the  crumbs,"  kept  persistently  on 
her  right — her  unguarded  side — and  mastering  his  iU 
humor,  talked  hghtly  and  easily,  every  now  and  then 
planting  a  query  as  to  her  past  life,  the  drift  of  which 
Glynn  thought  he  perceived. 

"  Is  it  North  or  South  America  which  has  the  honor  of 
claiming  you.  Miss  Lambert  ?  " 

"  Neither  ;  I  have  never  been  in  America,  I  was  bom  in 
Austraha." 

"AustraHa!  so  much  for  preconceived  ideas.  I  was 
disposed  to  swear  that  you  were  English  born  and  bred." 

"  I  have  been  more  in  England  than  anywhere  else." 

"  Indeed !  whereabouts,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Look !  what  a  splendid  effect ! "  exclaimed  Glynn,  who 
was  not  too  pleased  at  this  acquaintance, 

"  Oh,  how  lovely ! "  exclaimed  Elsie,  her  attention  quite 
diverted.  A  large  star  of  silvery  light  had  suddenly  ap- 
peared over  the  waterfall,  through  the  spray  of  which  it 
shone  in  varied  prismatic  colors,  and  Vincent  coming  up 


48  AT  BAY. 

at  the  moineAt  to  speak  to  Deering,  Glynn  managed  dex- 
terously to  lose  himself  and  his  companion  in  the  crowd, 
and  for  a  delicious  half-hour  had  her  aU  to  himself. 

"It  is  nearly  over,"  he  said  at  last.  "Let  us  make  our 
way  to  the  cafe  ;  we  were  all  to  assemble  there  ;  you  are 
tired,  I  am  siire,  and  I  am  afraid  Deering  has  bored  you." 

"  I  never  know  what  being  bored  means  exactly.  I  did 
not  like  speaking  to  him  at  first,  but  he  can  make  himself 
very  pleasant,  and  he  looks  well.  How  did  he  come  to 
know  Mr.  Vincent?  really  Mr.  Vincent  scarcely  seems  fit 
to  be  his  servant." 

"  That  is  rather  strong,"  said  Glynn,  laughing,  yet  with 
a  sense  of  annoyance  at  her  words  ;  "  but  his  acquaintance 
with  Vincent  does  seem  inexplicable.  I  wonder  if  he 
would  ask  him  to  Denham  and  introduce  him  to  his  wife, 
Jjady  Frances  ?  " 

"  Is  Mr.  Deering's  wife  a  great  lady  ?  " 

"Yes,  thoroughbred,  and  I  suspect  with  a  tiiorough- 
brei's  power  of  endurance." 

"  Is  she  not  hajapy,  then  ?  " 

"  Elsie,  my  child,"  cried  Madame  DaviUiers,  close  beside 
them,  "we  are  going  to  retui'n  home.  You  must  go  in 
the  carriage  with  monsieur,  Henri  Le  Clerc,  and  Madame 
Dubois  ;  they  await  you  in  the  veranda.  Antoinette  is 
speaking  English  quite  well,  but  exceedingly  well,  to  M. 
Derin  He  is  really  most  distinguished.  He  ought  to 
learn  French." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  is  a  httle  too  old,  madame,"  said  Ghom. 

They  were  soon  at  the  rendezvous  :  the  carriages  were 
ready,  and  Glynn  having  wrapped  Elsie's  cloak  round  her, 
was  obHged  to  let  Deering  hand  her  into  the  carriage,  as 
he  liad  stationed  himself  at  the  door. 

"  Good-night,  Miss  Lambert ;  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  soon  again," — with  a  little  ring  of  triumph 
in  his  tone,  and  she  was  whirled  away  into  the  soft  dark- 
ness of  the  summer  night. 

"  Are  you  going  straight  back  to  your  hotel  ? "  said 
Vincent  to  Deering,  when  Madame  Davilliers  had  driven 
off. 

"  Yes ;  I  shall  return  with  Mr.  Glynn,  if  he  wiU  allow 
me,"  courteously  to  the  latter,  then  abruptly  to  Vincent, 
"  But  I  shall  expect  you  to-morrow  at  10.30  or  eleven.  J 
want  to  hear  more  about  this  wonderful  colt" 


OLD   SCX)EES.  49 

**  Very  well ;  I  will  wish  you  good-evening. — Oh,  by  the 

way,  Madame  Davilliers'  address  is  14,  Bue  de  G- ,  in 

case  you  think  of  honoring  her  Friday  evenings." 

"  Thank  you  ;  good-evening."  Then  to  Glynn,  "  Shall 
we  stroll  towards  the  lakes  ?  It  is  such  a  fine  night,  and 
we  shall  find  o,  fiacre  nearer  town." 

The  two  men  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  Deering  exclaimed,  "  One  is  prepared  to  pay  for 
tips  in  racing  matters,  but  not  quite  so  high  a  price  as 
associating  with  such  men  implies  ;  that  is  an  awful  cad." 

"  He  is ;  I  was  infinitely  surprised  when  I  saw  you 
appear  in  the  character  of  his  protege  this  evening.  How 
did  you  come  to  know  him  ?  " 

Deering  laughed.  "  How  did  you  ? — ^but  I  forgot, — ^he 
is  evidently  a  popular  member  of  your  society.  I — I  met 
him  in  Count  Latour's  stables,  and  found  he  was  well  up 
in  sporting,  or  rather  turf,  matters.  There  is  very  little 
sport  in  them.  He  told  me  a  thing  or  two,  and  may  be 
of  use." 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  going  in  for  racing,"  said 
Glynn. 

"  I  take  a  certain  interest  in  it,  and  I  thought  you  did." 
He  paused,  lit  a  cigar,  and  then  said  abruptly,  "  Vincent 
tells  me  you  know  Miss  Lambei-t's  father ;  in  fact,  that 
you  are  frequently  his  favored  guest.  How  does  it  hap- 
pen that  such  a  girl  can  be  the  outcome  of  a  society  of 
bourgeois  and  sharpers?  You  must  present  me  to  this 
father  when  he  appears ;  I  should  prefer  your  sponsor- 
ship to  Vincent's." 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  know  a  set  of  people  so  com- 
pletely out  of  your  Hue  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  motive,  not  a  very  high  one,  I  confess,  but 
sufficiently  powerful — curiosity.  I  want  to  find  out  some- 
thing about  Miss  Lambert's  people  and  history,  for  I  am 
certain  I  knew  a  relative  of  hers,  many  years  ago." 

"  Well,  you  had  better  fall  back  on  your  sporting  ac- 
quaintance for  an  introduction,  he  is  much  more  intimate 
with  Captain  Lambert  than  I  am." 

"Ha!  you  refuse  to  be  responsible  for  me?  that's 
deuced  shabby!  So  he  calls  himself  captain?  He  is 
rather  a  queer  fish,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  our  respective  ideas  touching  queer 
4 


50  AT  BAY. 

fish.  He  is  not  a  highly- polished,  courtly  gentleman,  but 
he  is  not  a  bad  fellow  ;  and  he  is  devoted  to  his  daughter." 

"  Indeed !  Well,  GljTin,  I  believe  you  have  seen  a  good 
deal  of  the  world,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  find  that  so  much 
faith  in  your  fellow-creatures  survives  the  experience." 

"Faith  is  certainly  a  more  agreeable  sensation  than 
doubt,"  returned  Glynn,  unmoved.  "By  the  way,  I  quite 
forgot  I  had  an  engagement  this  evening.  I  am  late 
already ;  there  is  a  fiacre."  He  hailed  it.  "  Will  you 
drive  vrith  me,  Peering  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you  ;  I  shall  enjoy  my  weed  and  a  stroll,  so 
good-night.    I'U  look  you  up  to-morrow  or  next  day." 

"  Curiosity,"  murmured  Glynn,  as  he  rolled  away  towards 
Paris.  "Is  it  only  curiosity?  I  wonder  who  Elsie's 
mother  was  ?  It  seems  too  bad  that  any  unholy  mj-stery 
should  hang  roimd  so  sweet  and  frank  a  creature  ";  and 
recalling  the  beautiful  eyes  which  had  looked  up  into  his 
with  clear  unconsciousness  and  unhesitating  trust  Glynn 
closed  his  own,  and  gave  himself  up  to  some  delightful 
though  disquieting  reflections. 

"  What  infernal  bad  luck !  "  thought  Deeiing,  as  he  lit 
his  cigar  viciously.  "  I  did  not  dream  of  meeting  that 
fellow.  I  never  reckoned  on  such  an  obstacle.  However, 
cost  what  it  may,  I'll  get  to  the  bottom  of  her  parentage 
and  history.  If  my  suspicions  are  right,  I  must  get  rid  of 
her  or  bind  her  to  me  indissolubly  ;  and  the  last  would  be 
the  pleaaanter  process.  There  is  a  wonderful  charm  about 
her,  and  yet  at  times  I  can  catch  traces  of  him  too !  I 
wonder  who  this  father  of  hers  is  ?  I  must  get  at  him.  I 
wish  I  hadn't  been  obliged  to  send  that  cad  Vincent  to  the 
right-about  so  shortly,  iust  to  keep  up  appearances.  It  ia 
double  distilled  bad  luck  to  have  that  fellow  Glynn  here. 
But  if  he  thinks  he  is  going  to  make  all  the  running  with 
Miss  Lambert,  he  is  considerably  mistaken.  She  is  lovely, 
BO  lovely  that  I  almost  forgive  her  for  existing. 

Glynn  waited  impatiently  for  the  moment  when  he 
could  present  himself  at  Madame  Davilliers'  weeMy  recep- 
tion. The  reasons  why  he  must  remain  in  Paris  multi- 
plied. He  could  not  leave  Elsie  until  her  father  returned, 
and  then  he  must  stay  until  he  got  some  clue  to  Deering's 
schemes.    That  there  was  mischief  brewing  he  felt  con- 


OLD   S0OEE8.  61 

vinced.  Indeed,  he  was  inclined  to  believe  that  Deering 
did  not  intend  giving  his  real  name  when  Vincent  intro- 
duced him  to  Madame  DaviUiers  and  her  friends,  but  per- 
ceiving Glynn  he  had  probably  changed  his  intentions, 
and  telegraphed  accordingly  to  his  associate.  Still,  con- 
sidering that  Deering  bore  a  fair  character,  it  was  highly 
improbable  he  would  be  guilty  of  any  overt  baseness. 

On  reaching  Madame  DaviUiers',  Glynn  found  about 
half  a  dozen  intimates  already  assembled.  Monsieur's 
partie  at  whist  had  been  made  up  in"  a  small  side-room,  and 
in  the  salon  Mademoiselle  Antoinette  and  Elsie,  assisted  by 
the  singing-master,  were  performing  a  trio.  Glynn  waited 
tiU  this  was  over  to  make  his  bow  to  the  lady  of  the  house, 
enjoying  from  the  comer  where  he  had  stationed  himself 
an  uninterrupted  view  of  Elsie's  face,  which  had  the  rapt, 
far-away  look  it  always  wore  when  she  was  singing.  How 
sweet  and  noble  her  expression  was.  No,  he  would  not 
leave  her,  unless  he  felt  sure  she  was  safe  and  her  father 
forewarned.  The  trio  ended,  young  Le  Clerc  pressed  for- 
ward with  animated  thanks.  Then  Elsie  looked  round, 
as  if  seeking  some  one  ;  when  her  eyes  met  Gtynn's  a 
bright,  happy  smile  sparkled  over  her  countenance,  and 
she  made  a  movement  as  if  to  go  to  him.  He  was  soon 
at  her  side. 

"  You  have  some  pleasant  news,  I  am  sure  ?  "  he  said, 
as  he  took  her  hand. 

"  I  have  indeed.  My  father  has  returned  ;  he  will  be 
here  presently,  and  he  looks  so  well.  He  is  so  refreshed 
by  the  sight  of  the  sea  that  he  says  he  will  take  me  to 
Brittany,  when  it  grows  too  hot  in  Paris." 

"  You  win  enjoy  Brittany,"  said  Glynn's  voice  mechan- 
ically, while  the  real  man  was  thinking  what  a  heaven  it 
would  be  were  he  alone  with  her  in  Brittany,  or  Buenos 
Ayres,  or  Botany  Bay,  or  any  other  spot  on  earth,  pro- 
vided they  were  together,  away  from  every  one  else.  The 
next  instant  he  was  reproaching  himself  for  his  weakness, 
his  foUy. 

"I  believe  the  scenery  is  very  fine,"  Elsie  was  beginning, 
when  she  was  interrupted  by  the  words,  "  Good-evening, 
Miss  Lambert."  Glynn  had  been  so  absorbed  in  her  that 
he  had  not  observed  the  approach  of  Deering,  until  he 
spoke.    Elsie  turned  to  him,  still  composed  and  smiling; 


52  AT  BAY. 

without  any  trace  of  the  nervous  dread  which  she  had 
evinced  at  their  first  meeting. 

"  I  am  in  a  strange  land  here,"  said  Deering,  when  they 
had  exchanged  greetings,  "  so  I  claim  yovir  protection  ; 
you  must  be  my  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend,"  He 
drew  a  chair  forward  as  he  spoke,  and  Elsie  sat  down. 
"  Are  you  a  frequent  attendant  of  these  soirees,  Glynn  ?  " 
he  asked,  after  having  bestowed  a  nod  on  his  countryman. 
•'  You  are  certainly  fonder  of  innocent  amusements  here 
than  in  London ! " 

"  It  appears  that  Paris  produces  the  same  effect  upoa 
us  both,"  returned  G-lynn  coolly. 

"  Monsieur  Glynn,"  said  Madame  Davilliers,  sailing  up, 
"  will  you  come  and  speak  to  my  old  friend  M.  Le  Colonel 
Dubois  ?  He  is  a  most  interesting  person  !  He  fought  at 
Waterloo  in  the  first  year  of  his  service,  and  is  all  the 
fonder  of  your  nation  because  they  were  gallant  foes." 

So  GljTin  was  can-ied  off,  to  his  great  annoyance,  just  as 
Deering  took  a  seat  beside  Elsie,  and  seemed  to  settle 
himself  for  a  long  talk. 

M.  Le  Colonel  Dubois  did  not  find  the  most  attentive 
hstener  in  Glynn,  and  was  not  sorry  when  the  host  came 
to  pay  Ms  compliments  to  the  octogenarian,  and  permitted 
his  English  guest  to  escape.  Glynn  strolled  into  the  next 
room,  and  found  Miss  Lambert  still  conversing  witli  Deer- 
ing, with  an  air  of  interest  too  that  surprised  him.  He 
did  not  attempt  to  interrupt  them,  but  stood  watching  an 
opportunity  of  begging  Madame  Davilliers  to  ask  Miss 
Lambeii  for  another  song.  From  his  position  near  the 
portieres  between  the  two  rooms  he  could  see  the  door 
leading  to  the  vestibule.  While  he  looked  it  opened,  and 
Lambert  came  in — Lambert  in  a  gorgeous-colored  waist- 
coat and  a  bright  necktie,  for  evening  dress  was  not  indis- 
pensable at  Madame  Davilliers'  receptions.  There  was  a 
joyous  twinkle  in  his  eye,  an  iiTcpressible  air  of  success 
in  his  bearing.  He  saluted  madame  with  much  warmtli, 
and  then  looked  round  the  room  as  if  seeking  his 
"  Jewel"  Suddenly  an  extraordinary  change  passed  over 
his  face.  The  laughing,  joyous,  humorous  look  vanished, 
and  was  replaced  by  a  fierce,  staitled,  angry  glare,  like 
a  wild  creature  suddenly  roused  to  apprehension  and 
defiance,  as  i^  through  the  thin,  smooth  coating  of  lately 


OLD  SOOBEB.  53 

acquired  domesticity,  the  savage  nature  of  the  untamed 
desperado  had  broken  forth  all  the  more  vehemently  for 
its  temporary  slumber.  Glynn  saw  that  his  eyes  were 
fixed  on  Deering,  who  was  smiling  and  bending  forward 
as  he  spoke  to  Elsie.  She  did  not  heed  him,  for  she  had 
caught  sight  of  her  father,  and  Deering,  struck  by  her 
expression,  turned  to  see  what  had  attracted  her.  Then 
his  face  changed  too,  his  jaw  closed  with  a  look  of  rigid 
determination,  his  steel-blue  eyes  Ut  up  with  a  flash  of 
angry  recognition.  By  an  involuntary  impulse  Glynn 
started  forward  to  greet  Lambert  with  a  vague  intention 
to  assist  him  in  recovering  his  self-control — to  aid  Elsie's 
father  in  any  way  he  could. 

"  Glynn,"  said  Lambert,  gripping  his  hand  hard,  "  who — 
who  is  that  man — sitting  there — by  my — daughter  ?  " 

"  He  is  Deering  of  Denham.     Do  you  object  to  him  ?  " 

"  No,  why  should  I  ?  Only  I  knew  a  Deering  once— 
not  a  clean  potato  by  any  means !  This  may  not  be  the 
same — Ah,  Elsie,  my  child !     Come  here,  keep  by  me." 

"  What  is  the  matter,  dear  ?  You  are  not  like  yourself," 
she  exclaimed,  as  she  came  up  and  passed  her  arm  through 
his. 

"  Not  like  myself !  you  are  wrong  there."  Then  with  a 
sort  of  effort  he  went  straight  up  to  Deering  and  said 
audibly  in  EngHsh,  "  We  have  met  before,  sir,  have  we 
not  ?  " 

Deering,  who  was  considerably  the  taller,  looked  down 
on  him  from  the  ineffable  heights  of  his  social  superiority, 
and  replied  deliberately, 

"  I  have  certainly  had  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance 
some  years  ago." 

Then  they  stood  silent,  eye  to  eye — silent,  yet  exchang- 
ing deadly  defiance.  Deering,  the  most  self-possessed  of 
the  two,  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"I  fancy  we  have  seen  some  changes  since  we  met. 
Paris  is  not  a  bad  place  to  anchor  in  after  a  wandering 
Kfe,  especially  when  one  has  so  charming  a  companion 
m — ^Miss  Lambert,"  adding  the  name  after  a  slight  pause. 

•  How  do  you  Imow  my  daughter  ?  "  abruptly. 

"  "Your  friend,  Mr.  Vincent,  was  good  enough  to  present 
me,"  said  Peering  calmly;  mth  som9  emphasis  on  the 
»ame. 


54  AT  BAY. 

"  My  father  seems  to  have  found  another  acquaintance,'* 
?.'iicl  Elsie  to  Glynn.     "  It  is  curious." 

Glynn  scarce  knew  what  to  say.  It  was  probable  that 
Deeiing  had  knoA\'n  Lambert  by  some  other  name,  known 
him  under  more  doubtful  cu'cumstances  than  even  he 
(Glynn)  had.  The  idea  stung  him  with  a  sense  of  angry 
pain.  Deeriag  was  the  last  man  to  be  trusted  with  such 
knowledge. 

"jNIr.  Peering  has  been  telling  me  about  the  lady  of 
whom  I  remind  him,"  resumed  INIiss  Lambert.  "  She 
must  have  been  very  sweet  and  veiy  chai-ming,  but  most 
unliapjjy  ;  her  husband  was  murdered.  I  was  quite 
interested,  but  I  hoj^e  the  Hkeness  is  not  an  evil  omen." 

"  Impossible,"  cried  Glynn.  "  Do  not  think  of  omens. 
Here  comes  Madame  DavOliers  to  ask  you  to  sing  ;  pray 
do  not  refuse." 

While  he  sjDoke  with  Miss  Lambert,  Glynn  noticed  that 
her  father  and  Deering  exchanged  a  few  sentences  in  a 
low  tone,  and  that  Lambert,  although  he  had  completely 
mastered  his  temporary  disturbance,  had  by  no  means 
recovered  his  spirits.  A  look  of  cai'e  and  thought  clouded 
his  brow,  though  he  spoke  wdth  some  animation  to  one 
or  two  acquaintances.  Deering  on  the  conti-ary  looked 
supremely  calm,  with  something  of  exultation  in  his  cold, 
light  eyes. 

"  Miss  Lambert  sings  well,"  he  said.  "  I  am  no  great 
judge  of  music,  nor  do  I  care  for  it,  yet  I  should  imagine 
that  such  a  voice,  such  a  style,  ought  to  be  worth  a  good 
deal  of  money." 

"  I  don't  intend  her  to  sell  her  songs,"  said  Lambert, 
roughly.  "  And  now,  Madame  Davilliers,  I'll  wish  you 
good-night.  I'm  a  bit  tired  after  my  journey,  Elsie,  get 
on  your  hat  I'U  take  her  home  with  me  to-night,  madame, 
with  a  thousand  thanks  for  your  good  care." 

Elsie  rose  from  the  piano,  and  cast  an  anxious  look  on 
Lcr  father.  Then  she  gave  her  hand  to  GhTin,  bowed  to 
Deering,  presented  her  brow  to  madame's  kiss,  and  slip- 
ping her  ann  through  Antoinette's,  left  the  room, 

"  Let  me  see  you  soon,"  said  Lambert  to  Glynn.  "  Tou 
do  not  return  to  London  just  yet  ?  " 

"  Not  this  week,  at  least" 

"  Suppose  you  breakfast  with  me  to-morrow,  Captain 


OLD  eOOEE8.  55 

Lambert,"  said  Deering.  "  We'll  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace, 
and  talk  over  our  adventures  by  flood  and  field." 

"  Thank  you,"  shortly,  "  I  never  breakfast  away  from 
bome=" 

"  Oh,  indeed !  Then  I  shall  call  on  you,  and  pay  my 
respects  to  Miss  Lambert  at  the  same  time,"  returned 
Deeiing  in  a  tone  of  impertiirbable  good  breeding. 

Lambert,  who  was  making  his  adieux  to  Madame  Davil- 
liers,  did  not  seem  to  hear,  but  before  he  reached  the 
door  he  turned  quickly  back,  and  said  in  a  constrained 
tone  to  Deering : 

"  I  cannot  breakfast  with  you,  but  I  will  call  at  your 
hotel  to-morrow  morning  at  10.30." 

"  Tliat  is  wiser,"  said  Deering,  with  quiet  superiority. 

Glynn  was  greatly  struck  by  the  significance  of  these 
words.  What  hold  had  Deering  over  the  wandering  ad- 
venturer, who  seemed  as  far  removed  from  the  haughty 
Enghsh  gentleman  as  the  east  is  from  the  west  ? 

He  walked  home  revolving  this  question  and  others. 
Every  day  increased  the  fascination  which  Lambert's 
daughter  unconsciously  exercised  over  him  ;  every  day 
showed  more  and  more  clearly  the  unsuitability,  naj^  from 
a  common-sense  point  of  view,  the  impossibility  of  allying 
himself  with  so  doubtful  a  character  as  poor  Lambert. 

On  reaching  his  hotel,  the  concierge  handed  him  several 
letters,  and  when  safe  within  his  own  room  he  opened 
them.  One  proved  to  be  from  his  firm  on  business  which 
compelled  his  immediate  return  to  London. 

He  had  seldom  been  so  annoyed  and  irritated  as  by  this 
unavoidable  necessity  to  quit  the  scene  of  the  mysterious 
drama  which  interested  him  so  intensely.  He  might  be 
prudent  enough,  mean  enough,  to  shrink  from  linking 
himself  for  life  with  a  creature  who  was  probably  too 
good  for  him,  but  he  would  not  desert  Lambert  in  a  diffi- 
culty. He  would  return  as  soon  as  possible  and  see  him 
clear  of  Deering.  Seizing  his  pen  he  wrote  a  hasty  hne 
to  the  effect  that  he  was  obliged  to  run  over  to  London 
for  a  week,  but  would  return  without  fail,  adding  his 
private  address.  When  this  had  been  sealed,  stamped, 
pud  directed  to  Lambert,  he  rang  and  ordered  his  bill 
^d  a  very  early  cup  of  coffee  next  morning. 

**  The  first  train  for  Calais  leaves  at  seven  in  the  morn- 


66  AT  BAT. 

ing,"  said  the  waiter.  "  There  is  an  earlier  one  about  five, 
I  think,  by  the  Dieppe  route,  but  you  gain  no  time,  for 
the  Irajet  is  longer." 

"  Of  course  I  will  go  by  Calais,"  returned  Glynn-    ^^Ho 
not  fail  to  call  me  in  good  time." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   LAST   CARD, 

The  first  few  days  after  Glynn's  return  to  London  were 
so  crowded  by  important  engagements  and  serious  con- 
sultations with  the  elder  members  of  his  firm  as  to  the 
advisability  of  a  new  and  important  undertaking,  to  which 
Glynn  was  entirely  opposed,  that  he  had  no  time  for 
deliberate  thought  respecting  Lambert  and  his  mysterious 
acquaintance  with  Deering.  Yet  the  subject  was  never 
quite  out  of  his  mind.  A  vague  unreasonable  anxiety 
about  Elsie  haunted  him,  and  he  was  strangely  eager  to 
return  to  Paris. 

The  earliest  spare  moment  he  could  find  was  devoted  to 
Lady  Gethin. 

She  was  out  when  he  called,  but  next  morning's  post 
brought  him  a  pressing  invitation  to  dinner,  of  which  he 
gladly  availed  himself.  He  would  have  liked  to  take 
counsel  with  the  shrewd  old  woman,  and  yet  he  did  not 
think  it  loyal  to  Lambert,  who  evidently  trusted  him,  to 
be  too  confidential. 

Her  hospitable  ladyship,  however,  was  not  alone.  A 
small,  pleasant  party,  some  writers  of  light  literature,  a 
traveller,  a  smart  grass- widow  from  India,  a  clever  barrister, 
and  his  pretty,  accomplished  daughter,  to  whom  GljTin 
was  already  known,  were  assembled  when  he  arrived,  and 
dinner  was  a  feast  of  good  things  in  more  senses  than  one. 
Afterwards  there  was  music.  The  grass-widow  played 
brilliantly,  the  pretty  young  lady  sang  very  nicely,  had  a 
sweet  voice,  and  had  been  well  trained.  But  Glynn  could 
only  think  of  the  contrast  between  her  singing  and  Miss 
Lambert's  ;  of  the  mellow,  tender  richness  of  the  latter's 
notes,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  heart  to  the  heart, 
compared  with  the  lighter  though  pleasant  timbre  of  the 
other, — the  sweet,  simple  earnestness  of  the  one,  and  the 
easy  smiling  surface,  good  breeding  of  the  cultivated 
liondon  girL 


58  AT  BAT. 

"  Don't  leave  till  the  others  have  f^one,'  whispered  Lady 
GeiMn,  as  she  passed  him  when  following  her  lady  guests 
from  the  dining-room. 

It  was  the  height  of  the  season,  every  one  had  more 
engagements  than  they  Qovld  weU  manage  ;  the  party 
therefore  broke  up  early,  its  members  dispersing  to  balls, 
concerts,  or  receptions. 

"  Now  then,  have  a  little  iced  seltzer  and  cognac,  it  is 
quite  warm  this  evening,"  said  Lady  Gethin  ;  "  and  let  us 
have  a  long  talk — that  letter  of  yours  whetted  my  curiosity. 
What  in  the  world  has  kept  you  away  so  long  ?  every  one 
has  been  asking  for  you !  " 

"  Partly  business,  and  partly  curiosity," 

"What  about?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  presently.  Have  you  seen  Lady  Frances 
Deering  lately  ?  " 

"  I  saw  her  about  ten  days  ago;  she  has  gone  down  to 
Denham,  and  Deering  is  off  to  Vichy — liver  or  something 
wrong,  but  he  didn't  look  as  if  he  had  much  the  mattei 
with  him." 

"Vichy?  He  is  not  at  Vichy  I  I  saw  him  in  Paris  the 
night  before  I  left." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  he  must  pass  through  Paris,  but  you 
mean  something  more  ;  where,  and  how  did  you  see  him  ?" 

"  I  saw  him  saying  good-night  to  the  young  lady  with 
whom  he  was  stnick  at  Auteuil,  and  whom  I  think  I 
mentioned  to  you." 

"  You  don't  say  so !  That's  the  liver  complaint,  is  it  ? 
and  the  drama  into  the  bargain.  Come  now,  Hugh,  do  be 
candid,  and  do  not  wony  me  with  any  attempt  to  heighten 
effect  What  do  you  know  ?  What  have  you  seen  ?  What 
do  you  suspect  ?  " 

"  These  are  tremendously  leading  questions !  " 

**  Well,  I  want  to  get  at  your  drama  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Then,  I  shall  answer  categorically.  I  know  nothing. 
I  have  seen  very  httle.     I  suspect  everything." 

"  What  a  sphinx-like  reply.  Just  go  on  your  own  way, 
and  tell  me  everything  you  toill  tell,  for  I  have  an  idea 
you  will  make  reservations." 

Whereupon  Gljmn  described  his  meeting  with  Elsie  and 
her  father,  not  omitting  Vincent,  the  curious  contrast 
between  Lambert  and  his  daughter,  the  reappearance  of 


A  LAST  CAED.  6& 

Deering  on  the  scene,  his  incongruous  acquaintance  with 
Vincent  and  Lambert,  and  the  evident  astonishment  of 
each  on  recognizing  the  other.  He  only  suppressed  or 
softened  the  circumstances  under  which  he  had  known 
Lambert,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  changed  his  name. 
When  he  ceased,  Lady  Gethin,  who  had  listened  with 
profound  attention,  exclaimed  ; 

"  A  very  pretty  mystery,  upon  my  word.  That  Deer- 
ing is  a  fiend!  He  knows  something  against  Lambert, 
and  is  going  to  use  his  knowledge  to  help  him  with  the 
daughter.  I  never  liked  Deering.  He  is  a  smooth- 
tongued, sneering  hypocrite,  and  has  many  queer  comers 
in  his  life,  or  I  am  much  mistaken." 

"I  never  heard  anything  against  him,  indeed  he  is 
rather  Hked  among  men.  Even  now  I  scarcely  think  he 
can  be  capable  of  any  evil  designs  against  a  girl  like 
IMiss  Lambert.  What  struck  me  at  first,  was  the  sort  of 
fierce  imeasy  curiosity  he  displayed  concerning  her.  He 
certainly  admires  her  very  much." 

"  So  does  some  one  else,"  returned  Lady  Gethin,  with 
a  knowing  nod.  "  I  trust  and  hoj)e  that  the  beautiful 
eyes,  and  lovely  voice,  and  attractive  mystery,  wiU  not 
draw  you  into  making  a  fool  of  yourself." 

"  But,  Lady  Gethin !  "  cried  Glynn,  amazed  at  her  pene- 
tration and  quite  unconscious  how  much  he  had  betrayed, 
"  you  do  not  imagine  that  at  my  age  I  should  be  so  weak 
as  to  be  drawn  into  an  entanglement, — a  marriage,  of 
which  my  judgment  disapproves." 

"  I  wouldn't  give  five  minutes'  purchase  for  your  judg- 
ment, HugL  You  are  just  at  the  age  when,  if  men  are 
slower  in  igniting,  they  burn  with  a  more  intense  and 
lasting  fire.  The  frothiness  of  your  enthusiasm  may  have 
evaporated,  but  the  warm,  strong  spirit  remains.  Take 
care  of  yourself,  Hugh  ;  connection  with  such  a  man  as 
you  describe  Lambert  (and  I  fancy  you  have  made  the 
best  of  him)  would  be  a  frightful  calamity, — no  eyes, 
voice,  or  angelic  nature  could  make  up  for  it.  You'd  soon 
find  that  out.  There  is  a  certain  degi*ee  of  disenchant- 
ment in  marriage,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances. Take  my  advice,  don't  go  back  to  Paris,  let 
them  manage  their  mystery  themselves.  You  will  be  let 
is  for  something  unpleasant  and  risky — don't  go  back." 


60  AT  BAT. 

"  Oh,  I  must  go  back  I  I  promised  Lambert  I  woTild ; 
besides,  I  want  to  see  the  play  out ;  and  you  alarm  your- 
self imnecessarily.  I  admire  Miss  Lambeii,  I  think  her 
as  good  as  she  is  charming  ;  but  I  am  as  averse  to  a  mar- 
riage with  her  as  you  can  he.  Moreover,  I  have  a  safe- 
guard in  her  indifference,  for  she  treats  me  with  frank 
confidence  as  her  father's  old  friend,  nothing  more." 

"  This  is  worse  and  worse,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  gravely. 
"  How  do  you  know  what  profound  tenderness  her  indif- 
ferent airs  may  mask  ?  " 

•*  Do  you  think  I  have  never  looked  into  any  eyes,  nor 
learned  their  language,  before  I  saw  Miss  Lambert's,  that 
I  should  be  so  mistaken?  "  asked  Glynn,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  you  are  learned  enough  in  such  mat- 
ters. Pray  be  guided  by  me,  put  the  Parisian  episode 
out  of  your  head,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  marry  that 
nice  piquant  little  daughter  of  Pearson'a  I  asked  them 
on  purpose  to  meet  you.  He  will  give  her  ten  thousand 
pounds,  and  he  is  a  rising  man  ;  he  will  be  on  the  bench 
in  a  year  or  two  ;  they  are  people  of  good  family." 

"  My  dear  Lady  Gethin  I  I  don't  want  to  maiTy  any 
one,  and  so  I  will  bid  you  good-night.  A  thousand  thanks 
for  your  good  advice." 

"  Which  of  course  you  will  not  follow  I  Well,  keep  me 
informed  of  what  goes  on.  I  wish  /  could  see  all  your 
people,  I  think  I  shoiild  find  a  key  to  the  riddle.  I  never 
liked  Deering." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  could  read  between  the  hues. 
As  to  Deering,  now  that  I  am  away  from  him,  I  am  half 
ashamed  of  my  suspicions.  It  is  rather  absurd  to  imag- 
ine that  a  man  of  his  standing  would  risk  his  reputation 
for  a  passing  whim." 

"  But  he  doesn't  risk  it,"  said  Lady  Gethin.  "  He  is 
not  infringing  any  social  law  in  England  ;  unknown, 
doubtful  Americans,  neither  rich  nor  highly-placed,  are 
beyond  the  pale.  If  that  Lambei-t  had  any  sense,  he 
would  give  his  daughter  a  Httle  money  and  marry  her  to 
some  soUd  bourgeois.  He  could  easily  ai'range  it,  I 
fency." 

»  "  WeD,  good-night,"  said  Glynn,  with  an  odd  feeling  of 
irritation.  "  I  shall  call  and  see  you  before  I  leave,  and 
do  not  hesitate  to  give  me  any  commission — my  taste  ij» 
ploves  and  ©Ten  in  ribbons  is  not  to  be  despised." 


A  LAST  CARD.  61 

**  Take  care,"  was  her  valediction. 

The  next  day  brought  Glynn  a  few  lines  from  Lam- 
bert, which  struck  bun  as  expressing  more  uneasiness 
than  was  intended. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  ask  you  to  return  if  it  does  not  suit 
you,"  he  wrote,  "  but  I  hope  you  will.  I  feel  in  need  of 
your  counsel.  I  have  had  wonderful  luck  for  years,  and 
now  I'm  afraid  it's  turning.  Then  I  am  not, as  young  or 
as  strong  as  1  used  to  be  ;  and  one  way  or  another  it 
would  cheer  me  up  a  bit  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

Had  GljTin  had  any  hesitation  as  to  revisiting  Paris 
this  letter  would  have  decided  him.  He  sent  a  few  lines 
in  reply,  and  then  applied  himself  steadily  to  clear  up  all 
business  engagements  as  far  as  possible,  to  secure  a  long 
holiday. 

He  called  on  Deering  at  his  club,  and  was  told  that 
gentleman  was  travelling  abroad,  and  that  letters  ad  dressed 
to  his  town  house  would  be  forwarded.  Lady  Gethin  was 
not  at  borne  to  receive  his  adieux,  but  wrote  him  a  quaint 
characteristic  line  of  warning. 

Having  performed  all  his  duties,  Glynn  found  himself 
in  the  mail  train  for  Calais  one  evening  about  a  fortnight 
after  he  had  left  Paris,  with  an  irrepressible  sense  of  exul- 
tation, of  keen  delight  at  the  idea  of  returning  to  what  he 
knew  in  his  heart  was  a  scene  of  danger,  determined  to 
enjoy  to  the  uttermost  the  pleasure  of  Elsie's  companion- 
ship, so  long  as  he  saw  no  sign  of  consciousness  on  her 
part.  Life  had  so  few  moments  of  bliss  that  he  could  not 
and  would  not  deny  himself  the  di-aught  that  chance  had 
offered. 

It  was  a  damp,  drizzling  morning  when  he  reached  his 
journey's  end.  Perhaps  no  town  changes  so  much  with 
change  of  weather  as  Paris  ;  muddy  streets,  wet  umbrel- 
las, heavy  grey  clouds  disguise  it  completely,  and  give  it 
the  aspect  of  a  beautiftd  coquette,  in  deshabille  and  a  bad 
temper.  As  early  as  etiquette  would  permit  Glynn  took 
his  way  to  the  Rue  de  L'Eveque,  hoping  to  find  Lambert, 
as  he  could  not  expect  to  gather  any  information  from 
Elsie.  Hailing  a  fia/yre,  he  told  the  driver  where  to  go, 
and  smiled  to  himself  at  the  notion  of  Lady  Gethin's 
alarm,  thinking  that  if  she  knew  how  fast  his  heart  was 
beating  she  would  resign  all  hope  of  saving  him.    As  he 


6?.  AT  BAT. 

approached  the  house  Glynn  saw  that  his  driver  had  either 
forgotten  or  mistaken  the  number,  and  was  driving  past 
it.  He  had  just  started  forward  to  stop  him  when  he  saw 
two  men  come  out  of  the  entrance,  and  turning  their  backs 
on  his  conveyance,  walk  smartly  dowoi  the  street  in  close 
conversation.  They  were  Deering  and  Vincent.  A  quick 
thrill  of  pain,  of  anticipated  evil,  shot  through  him  as 
he  recognized  them.  He  feared  he  knew  not  what.  But 
above  and  be^'ond  all  reasoning,  he  felt  that  their  com- 
panionship, their  presence,  were  omens  of  trouble  and  of 
wrong. 

"  Stop  where  you  are,  I  will  descend  here,"  he  called  to 
the  driver,  and  was  soon  springing  up  the  familiar  stairs. 
How  vividly  the  perfume  of  the  orange  blossoms  reminded 
him  of  the  surprised  admiration  which  Elsie  and  her  home 
had  excited  on  his  first  visit. 

"  Oh !  it  is  you,  monsieur ! "  cried  Celestine,  directly 
she  opened  the  door  ;  "  I  will  tell  Madame  Weber,  and  I 
am  sure  mademoiselle  will  receive  you."  She  went  into 
the  sahn,  and  returned  almost  immediately.  "Enter, 
monsieur,  but  enter  ;  mademoiselle  will  be  pleased  to  see 
you.'' 

Miss  Lambert  was  alone  when  Glynn  found  himself  in 
her  presence,  and  sitting  at  a  vnriting-table  ;  she  rose 
quickly,  and  came  forward,  with  outstretched  hands,  "  I 
am  so  glad  you  have  come."  Glynn  did  not  speak  imme- 
diately— he  was  surprised  at  the  intensity  of  his  own 
delight  on  finding  himself  once  more  beside  her,  listening 
to  her  voice,  holding  her  hand,  gazing  into  her  eyes.  He 
did  not  know  he  was  so  far  gone.  She  looked  paler, 
thinner,  graver,  than  when  he  last  saw  her.  She  wore  a 
black  dress,  and  had  a  small  scarf  of  deUcate  lace  tied 
loosely  round  her  throat.  Her  bright  brown  hair  looked 
golden  even  in  the  dull  light  of  a  grey  day,  and  there  was 
something  sad  in  her  pose  and  expression  that  Glynn 
found  infinitely  touching. 

"  You  knew  I  should  return — at  least  your  father  did," 
he  said  at  length. 

"  My  father  did  expect  you  ;  but  I — I  thought  it  likely 
that  when  you  were  amongst  your  own  friends,  your  own 
people,  you  would  not  care  to  leave  tliem." 

*'  I  am  afraid  that  you  are  not  so  well  as  when  I  lef t»" 


A   LAST   CARD.  63 

Baid  Glynn,  drawing  a  chair  near  her  writing-table,  at 
which  she  had  reseated  herself.  "  It  is  perhaps  imperti- 
nent to  say  that  you  are  not  looking  as  well,  as  brilliant  as 
you  were." 

"Brilliant,"  she  repeated,  with  a  brief  sweet  laugh. 
"  That  I  never  could  be  ;  but  you  are  right,  I  am  ill, — ill  at 
ease,  I  mean.  My  father.  Ah  ! — he  is  so  changed  !  And 
he  is  angry  if  I  notice  it ;  but  he  is  very  unhappy,  I  know 
he  is.  That  is  why  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  ;  he  can 
speak  to  you,  he  may  speak  to  you.  You  may  be  able  to 
help  him  ;  but  /  am  only  a  helpless,  ignorant  girl.  Yet  I 
coidd  do  much  if  I  were  directed." 

"  I  should  be  most  happy  to  be  of  any  use  to  Captain 
Lambert,"  said  Glynn.  **  No  doubt  your  affectionate  anxi- 
ety inclines  you  to  exaggerate,  but- " 

"  When  you  see  him  you  will  understand,"  interrupted 
Elsie,  "  you  will  see  that  I  do  not  exaggerate.  He  will 
not  tell  me  what  has  happened.  He  says  he  has  not  lost 
his  fortune.  I  should  not  care  if  he  had,  for  I  coiild  earn 
money  by  singing,  though  not  on  the  stage.  However, 
my  knovdng  would  not  help  him,  because  I  have  always 
been  shut  up  and  am  so  ignorant.  You  do  not  mind  me 
telling  you  all  this,  do  you  ?  Though  I  have  not  known 
you  long,  my  father  has,  and— and — ^you  seem  like  a  real 
friend  to  him." 

She  looked  full  in  his  face,  her  great  soft  eyes  all  suf- 
fused with  tears — like  violets  laden  with  dew. 

"I  am  gratified  that  yoxi  confide  in  me,  so  far,"  said 
Glynn  quietly,  with  laudable  self-control.  "I  shall  ob- 
serve your  father  by  the  light  of  your  remarks  ;  and  if  he 
is  really  in  any  difficulty,  or  cares  to  consult  me,  I  shall 
be  most  happy  to  assist  him  so  far  as  I  can.  Probably  his 
depression  arises  from  some  temporary  losses.  Believe 
me,"  and  his  dark  face  lit  up  with  a  pleasant  smile,  "money 
is  a  most  important  factor  in  existence  ;  I  am  able  to  as- 
sert from  experience  that  there  is  no  vacuum  so  distress- 
ing as  an  empty  pocket." 

"  If  it  is  the  loss  of  money,"  she  returned  gravely,  "  we 
ought  not  to  stay  here  ;  life  is  very  costly,  I  know  ;  I  have 
paid  everything  for  the  last  eight  months.  My  dear 
father  is  too  generous  ;  we  ought  to  manage  as  we  used 
when  he  was  trying  to  save ;  he  might  move  about  as  his 


64  AT  BAT. 

business  required,  and  I  could  go  back  to  good  Mrs.  Kd» 
lett." 

"  Who  is  Mrs.  Kellett  ?  " 

"  My  foster-mother ;  the  only  mother  I  have  ever  known : 
she  lost  her  baby  and  her  husband,  and  took  me  to  love 
instead,  at  the  time  our  place  was  destroyed  in  Australia. 
But,  Mr.  Glynn,  it  is  more  than  money  that  disturbs  my 
father." 

"  Let  us  hope  he  will  speak  openly  to  me  ;  but  I  have 
no  right  to  ask  his  confidence.  Now  you  must  not  worry 
yourself  unnecessarily.  I  wish  it  were  a  finer  day,  and  I 
should  try  to  persuade  you  and  Madame  Weber  to  come 
for  a  drive  in  the  bois." 

"  Thank  you,  very  much  ;  I  should  have  liked  it,  for  I 
have  gone  out  very  little  of  late  ;  but  Madame  Weber  is 
not  in  the  house,  she  went  to  the  PlaUe  this  morning  early 
to  buy  fruit,  and  has  not  returned  yet." 

"  Then  you  have  been  duU  as  well  as  troubled.  How  is 
Madame  Davilliers,  and  Mademoiselle  Antoinette  ?  "  asked 
Glynn,  making  a  circuitous  approach  to  the  topic  upper- 
most in  his  mind. 

"  They  are  very  well,  and  very  busy.  Antoinette  is  go- 
ing to  be  married  in  August  to  M.  Le  Vicomte  de  Pon- 
tigny  ;  it  has  been  all  an-anged  since  you  left.  I  should 
have  less  to  regret,  therefore,  in  leaving  Paris,  for  Antoi- 
nette is  going  to  travel  for  some  time,  and  when  she  re- 
turns it  will  not  be  the  same." 

"This  seems  to  have  been  a  rapid  act?" 

"  I  dare  say  Monsieur  Davilliers  and  the  Yicomte  had 
begun  the  treaty  long  ago,"  said  Elsie,  laughing  ;  "  but  toe 
only  heard  of  the  intended  marriage  three  or  four  days 
ago." 

"  And  Peering,  he  is  still  here  ?  "  looking  keenly  at  her. 

"Yes";  aU  her  gravity  returning.  "He  called  this 
morning  just  before  you  came  ;  I  did  not  see  him,  for,  it 
is  very  extraordinary,  my  father  lias  turned  against  Mr. 
Vincent,  who  is  always  with  Mr.  Deering  ;  that  I  do  not 
mind  ;  l3ut  though  he  says  less  about  it,  I  think  he  is  quite 
as  distrustful  of  Mr.  Deering.  Now  /  have  got  over  my 
first  foolish  fear  of  him ;  he  is  so  gentle  and  polite,  and 
seems  to  want  to  be  friends  with  my  father.  I  do  not  un- 
derstand it  aU  ;  but  I  never  dispute  what  my  dear  father 


A   LAST   CARD.  d£ 

says.  He  knows  more  of  life  than  I  can  possibly  do.  Yet 
I  want  very  much  to  hear  all  about  the  lady  Mr.  Deering- 
tJiinks  me  so  like.  He  promised  to  tell  mo  when  he  knew 
me  better.  Everything  seems  so  changed  since  our  pleas- 
ant dinner  at  the  Cafe  de  Madrid,  not  two  months  ago." 

"  Such  days  and  dinners  do  not  come  often,"  said  Glynn, 
with  a  quick  sigh.  "  I  hope  all  this  worry  does  not  pre- 
vent you  singing  as  much  as  you  used  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  it  is  the  only  pleasure  I  have." 

"  Is  it  too  presumptuous  of  me  to  ask  for  a  song  now  ?  " 

Elsie  did  not  answer  for  a  moment ;  she  put  her  elbows 
on  the  table,  clasped  her  hands  together,  and  resting  her 
cheek  on  her  interlaced  fingers,  said  very  slowly,  "  No  ;  I 
could  not  sing  to-day,  I  shoidd  break  down — the  te.u's 
woidd  come — ^I  had  better  not  try." 

"  Then  I  wiU  not  ask  you  ; — but  tell  me,  when  shall  I 
see  3^our  father  ?  " 

"  He  will  certainly  call  upon  you.  I  am  not  sure  if  he 
will  return  to  dinner,  or  I  would  beg  you  to  dine  with 
us." 

"  Thank  you  ;  we  will  reserve  that  pleasure  for  future 
arrangement.  I  am  staying  as  usual  at  tiie  hotel  Wag- 
ram,  and  have  letters  to  write  Avhich  will  keep  me  in  till 
past  eleven  to-morrow,  should  Captain  Lambert  feel  dis- 
posed to  call." 

^  I  will  tell  him,"  said  Elsie. 

Then  Glynn  knew  he  ought  to  go  ;  but  he  could  not 
tear  himself  away  immediately.  It  was  so  charming,  this 
quiet  confidential  talk ;  so  intoxicating  to  see  that  her 
pale,  anxious  face  had  brightened  considerably  ;  certainly 
her  composure,  in  the  midst  of  her  depression  and  un- 
easiness, left  no  room  for  any  flattering  conviction  that 
he  had  impressed  himself  upon  her  heart  oi'  imagination. 
So  far  aU  was  right ;  she  treated  him  as  a  friend,  an 
honorable  gentleman,  in  whom  she  miglit  trust,  and 
nothing  more. 

A  little  further  talk  of  the  books  Glynn  had  left  with 
her,  of  her  wish  to  leave  Paris,  and  revisit  the  farm- 
house, where  most  of  her  cliildish  days  h  id  been  spent, 
and  Glynn  felt  he  must  not  stay  longer. 

"  Shall  you  make  any  stay  ? "  she  aske  i,  as  she  gave 
him  her  hand  at  parting. 
6 


66  AT  BAY. 

"  A  week  or  two,  perhaps  a  raonth  ;  I  am  not  sure.** 

"  Then  good-moruing — au  revoir." 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  strange  and  dream-like.  He 
wandered  through  well-known  places,  seeking  acquaint- 
ance to  draw  him  from  the  puzzle  of  his  own  thoughts, 
and  finding  none,  tiU  towai'ds  six  o'clock,  passing  Tor- 
toni's,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Deering,  who 
was  seated  at  one  of  the  Httle  round  tables  eating  an  ice. 

"  HuUo,  Glynn !  I  thought  jou  were  in  London  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  I  am  in  Paris." 

"  When  did  you  aiTive  ?  " 

"  This  morning." 

A  Httle  ordinary  talk  ensued,  the  tone  of  which  showed 
a  strong  desire  on  the  part  of  Deering  to  be  ci%-il  and 
friendly.  Glynn  at  once  determined  to  accept  his  ad- 
vances ;  he  might  thus  detect  some  indications  of  the 
secret  which  underlay  his  acquaintance  with  Lambert, 
and  the  curious  influence  he  seemed  to  have  exercised 
over  him.  He  could  not,  however,  bring  himself  to  ac- 
cept bis  invitation  to  dinner,  though  he  agreed  to  dine 
with  him  at  one  of  the  luxurious  cafes  which  abound  in 
tbe  great  capital  of  pleasure. 

Deeiing  talked  weU,  of  many  things,  chiefly  pohtical ; 
he  also  mentioned  his  wife  and  home,  pressing  Glynn  to 
come  down  to  Denham  for  the  twelfth  of  August,  prom- 
ising him  good  spoii;. 

It  was  not  till  they  had  risen  from  table,  and  wex'c 
Hghting  tlieir  cigai'S  pre^'ious  to  separating,  that  Deering 
made  anj-  mention  of  the  subject  probably  uppermost  in 
both  their  minds. 

"  Of  course  you  have  not  seen  anything  of  Lambert?  " 

"  No,  not  yet." 

"  He  is  a  queer  fish — a  very  shady  member.  I  knew 
him  under  anotlier  name,  and  rather  doubtful  circum- 
stances ;  I  am  afraid  he  is  not  in  a  very  sound  financial 
position  ;  he  is  a  thorough  adventurer.  It  is  a  bad  busi- 
ness for  the  daughter ;  she  is  a  veiy  nice  creature.  I 
wonder  where  he  picked  her  up,  for  one  can't  beHeve  she 
reaUy  is  his  daughter  ?  " 

"  There  is  not  much  family  likeness  between  them;  cer- 
tainly ;  but  I  see  no  reason  for  doubting  his  representa- 
tiona  He  is  evidently  devoted  to  her,  and  his  surround- 
ings axe  perfectly  respectable." 


A   LAST    OAKD.  6'^ 

"  Perfectly.     "VYliere  did  you  meet  Lira  ?  " 

"  In  America,  many  yeara  ago." 

"  Indeed !     Oli,  are  you  going  ?     Well,  good-nigbt." 

Ilugli  Glynn  was  careful  to  stay  in  his  room  all  the  next 
morning,  thinking  that  if  Lambert  wiBlied  to  make  any 
private  communication,  they  were  more  seciu*e  from  in- 
tsiTuption  there  than  elsewhere. 

It  was  bai'ely  eleven  when  Lambert  was  announced. 
Glynn  was  positively  startled  by  the  change  in  his  aspect. 
Hi's  weather-beaten  face  was  colorless  and  haggard,  his 
eyes  had  a  hunted  look,  as  though  seeking  a  way  of  es- 
cape, his  clothes  were  cai-elessly  put  on,  his  moustaches 
no  longer  waxed  and  fiercely  twisted,  his  whole  air  be- 
spoke neglect. 

"  Dehghted  to  see  you,  Glynn,"  he  said,  a  faint  gleam 
of  pleasure  lighting  up  his  restless  eyes.  "  I  was  afraid 
you  wouldn't  get  back  again  this  season  ;  business  must 
be  attended  to.     You're  in  business,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  can  attend,  to  it  sometimes  at  a  distance." 

"  That's  fortunate  ;  and  you  have  been  ail  right  ?  '* 

".  Yes  ;  quite  rig;ht,  thank  you." 

Thers  was  an  awkwai'd  pause.  Lambert  seeiMed  unable 
to  approach  the  matter,  whatever  it  might  be,  whicli  fiUed 
his  mind  ;  he  took  up  a  paper-knife,  which  he  turned 
restlessly  to  and  fro,  he  changed  his  position,  and  then, 
with  a  sigh,  exclaimed,  "  You  saw  Elsie  yesterday.  She 
was  glad  you  called,  but  she  is  not  very  bright.  You 
didn't  think  her  looking  well,  hey  ?" 

"  Not  as  well  as  usual,  certainly." 

"  No  ;  she  is  fretting — fretting  about  her  old  dad.  It's 
wonderful  how  that  creature  loves  me.  Me  ! — sometimes 
when  she  is  hanging  about  me,  and  singing  the  songs  I 
like,  and  making  a  servant  of  herself  for  me,  I  just  lock 
back  and  think  of  the  scenes  I've  gone  through,  and  the 
queer  scramble  my  life  has  been,  and  wonder  how  the 
dickens  it  happens  that  an  angel  Hke  her  can  be  so  fond 
of  an  old  scapegrace  ;  that  she  doesn't  shrink  from  me  ; 
but  she  doesn't,"  with  infinite  exultation,  "  she  loves  mc, 
sir,  as  well  as  ever  child  loved  father ! " 

"  Of  that  I  can  have  no  doubt,"  cried  Glynn.  "An 3 
your  affection  for  her  deserves  it."  • 


68  AT   BAT. 

"  She  has  made  another  man  of  me,"  continued  Lam- 
bert. "  But  though  I  have  not  been  a  regular  saint  all 
my  da^'S,  I  am  as  white  as  driven  snow  compared  to  some 
blackguai'ds  that  hold  up  their  heads  in  high  places.  I 
am  rambhng  on  like  an  idiot.  I  called  to  ask  if  you'll 
come  and  dine  with  us  to-night.  It  cheers  me  up  to  see 
an  honest  face." 

Glynn  accepted  the  invitation  readily,  and  after  a  pause, 
duiing  which  he  drummed  on  the  table,  Lambeii;  recom- 
menced. 

"  I  liave  not  had  a  good  time  of  it  since  you  were  away, 
Glynn.  I  have  been  on  the  brink  of  i-uin  tln-ough  the 
treachery  of  a  man  I  thought  a  friend.  But  I  hope  to  get 
over  it.  I  think  I'll  get  over  it,  and  whatever  happens, 
Elsie's  httle  f  oi-time  is  out  of  harm's  way.  I  made  sure  of 
that     She  need  never  stai've." 

"  Very  prudent  and  proper,"  retui-ned  Glynn.  "  But  I 
earnestly  hoj^e  you  will  escape  the  loss  you  mention. 
Been  bitten  by  a  bubble  comi^any  ?  " 

"  No !  It's  a  long  story  ;  I'U  tell  it  to  you  some  day, 
and  you'll  judge  for  yourself  ;  but  not  now,  not  now.  Ah  ! 
you  are  a  bright  chap,  Glynn,  strong  and  steady.  If  j'ou 
had  a  Uttle  capital,  now,  you'd  get  along  first  rate."  He 
rose  as  he  spoke  and  took  a  turn  up  and  down. 

Gh-nn  did  not  answer  his  conjectm'es  as  to  his — Glynn's 
—  financial  position  ;  he  felt  tenibly  disappointed  that 
lianibert  had  made  no  confession  of  tangible  difficulties, 
and  yet  he  was  brimful  of  some  trouble  which  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  confess.  Lambert  resumed  his  seat, 
and  began  talking  in  a  rambling  fashion  of  ordinary 
topics  ;  but  his  thoughts  were  evidently  elsewhere,  and  at 
lengtli  he  went  away,  leaving  a  most  painful  impression  on 
Glynn's  mind,  of  profound  despondency,  of  mental  dis- 
(juietude  which  he  could  not  or  would  not  express. 

At  dinner,  some  hours  later,  he  either  was  more  cheer- 
ful, or  assiuned  a  livelier  aspect  for  his  daughter's  benefit. 
She  seemed  to  accept  the  improvement  as  real,  and  the 
evening  went  quickly.  With  the  help  of  music  and  con- 
versation, Lambert,  towards  the  end,  seemed  to  forget  his 
troubles  and  was  more  like  himself.  At  parting  Elsie  gave 
Gl_\nin  an  eloquent  glance  expressive  of  thanks,  of  mutual 
understanding,  which  sent  him  away  charmed,  restless, — 


A   LAST   CAED.  69 

longing  for  tbeir  next  interview,  yet  full  of  dread  for  the 
future. 

The  next  day  as  he  was  leaving  his  hotel  he  ran  against 
Deering,  who  was  coming  in.  "  I  am  off  to  Vichy  to-day," 
he  said.  "  I  thought  I  should  just  let  you  know.  I  ought 
to  have  gone  a  week  ago,  but  I  met  some  people  that 
amused  me  ;  Lady  Haniett  Beauchamj)  and  Wedderburn 
— you  know  them,  I  suppose  ?  Shall  I  find  you  here  when 
I  return  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  the  length  of  your  visit." 

"  Oh,  aoout  a  foiinight." 

"  I  shall  hardly  stay  so  long." 

"Good-bye,  tlien.  Don't  forget  Denham  in  August. 
Lady  Frances  will  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

The  very  atmosphere  seemed  lighter  and  brighter  to 
Glynn  when  Deering  was  safe  away.  Lambert  was  visi- 
bly reHeved,  and  his  daughter  reflected  her  father's  mood. 
Things  went  on  much  as  before.  Madame  Davilliers'  Fridays 
were  more  crowded  and  vai'ied.  They  made  little  excur- 
sions to  Sevre,  and  to  the  beautiful  woods  of  Mendan  ; 
sometimes  with  the  Davilliers,  sometimes  only  a  quartet — 
Lambert,  Elsie,  Madame  Weber,  and  Glynn. 

These  were  delightful  days.  The  quiet  harmony  of  the 
present  made  Glynn  regardless  of  the  future.  It  was 
wonderfully  interesting  to  draw  Elsie  from  the  obseiwant 
silence  which  was  habitual  to  her  into  sympathetic  talk. 
There  was  always  something  to  discover  in  her,  something 
to  win,  of  confidence,  of  self-revelation,  and  she  was  so 
teachable,  with  aU  her  honest  chnging  to  the  conclusions 
of  her  own  clear  sense. 

There  were  moments  when  his  hesitation  disappeared, 
and  GhTin  was  almost  resolved  to  make  her  his  wife  if  she 
would  have  him  ;  but  that  vague  cloud  of  mystery  was  a 
bad  accompaniment  for  married  life. 

The  only  discordant  ingi*edient  in  this  happy  interlude 
was  the  occasional  intrusion  of  Vincent,  to  whom  Lambert 
showed  a  curious  ceremonious  politeness,  dashed  at  times 
with  epigrammatic  bitterness,  of  which  the  dandified 
American  took  no  notice.  Elsie,  on  the  contrary,  was  more 
friendly  to  him  than  formerly. 

It  was  about  ten  days  after  Glynn's  return,  and  he  was 


70  AT  BAT. 

debating  in  his  ovm  mind  the  prudence  and  adrisability 
of  a  retreat  while  he  had  still  some  command  of  his  own 
will.  Dinner  was  over  in  Lambei-t's  pretty  salle  a  manger. 
Elsie  had  left  her  father  and  his  friend  to  talk  and  suioke 
for  the  lazr,  comfortable  half-horn-  which  succeeds  tlie 
evening  meal. 

"Miss  Lambeii  is  looking  quite  herself  again,"  said 
Glynn,  his  imagination  too  full  of  her  to  resist  speech. 

"  She  is,"  returned  her  father.  "  That  is  because  I  am 
brighter ;  but  I  am  not  out  of  the  wood  yet — ^not  yet." 
He  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two,  puffing  vigorously 
while  he  thought.  "  Ay ! — man}-  an  anxious  thought  she 
costs  me.  I'd  give  a  good  deal — all  I  possess,  life  itself, 
to  know  she  was  safe  and  in  better  hands  than  mine. 
Ghmn,  I  am  going  to  prove  the  confidence  I  have  in  you. 
We  are  men  of  the  world,  and  can  talk  to  each  other  with- 
out fear  of  misunderstanding." 

"  It's  coming  at  last,"  tliought  GljTm.  "  You  may  be 
sure  that  anything  you  like  to  teU  is  safe  with  me,"  he  said 
aloud. 

"  I  know  it"  He  rose,  lifted  the  curtain  which  hung 
across  the  doorway  leading  to  Elsie's  httle  study,  assured 
himsolf  it  was  unoccupied  and  the  outer  door  shut.  Then 
he  resumed  his  seat,  and  placing  his  arms  on  the  table 
leant  towards  Ghnin,  and  began  in  a  low  voice,  which,  as 
he  plunged  deeper  into  his  subject,  grew  clearer  and 
louder.  "  Look  here,  now,  I  don't  see  why,  when  I  am  in 
Rome,  I  shouldn't  do  as  Rome  does.  I  know  youll  meet 
me  in  my  own  spirit.  If  you  hke  what  I  ain  going  to 
propose,  well  and  good;  if  not,  there's  no  hann  done. 
First  of  all  I  suppose  I  am  right  in  concluding  you  are 
not  married — that  you  are  free  and  independent?" 

"  I  am,"  said  Gh-nn,  greatly  surprised. 

"  Then  what  do  you  say  to'  settling  yourself  ?  You  are 
old  enough.  You  are  six  or  seven-and-thu-ty,  I  guess. 
Now,  if  you  are  so  disposed,  I'd  die  happy  if  I  saw  you 
maiTied  to  my  Elsie !  " 

Glynn  started  at  this  bold  proposition ;  yet  gazing  at 
the  eager  eyes,  the  earnest  face,  tlie  slight  nei-vous  twitch 
in  the  lips  which  had  just  uttered  it,  he  felt  strangely 
moved. 

"  Don't  answer  all  at  once,"  continued  Lambert ;  "  I 


A   LAST   CASD.  71 

calculate  there's  a  goodish  bit  more  to  bo  said  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  know  tliis  sort  of  thing  isn't  our  fashion,  but  I 
am  too  uneasy  about — ah !  about  the  future,  to  wait  for 
the  chance  of  my  jewel  meeting  the  right  man,  and  life  is 
uncertain — mine  especially.  I  wouldn't  give  her  to  you 
empty-handed,  either." 

"  Why,  Lambei-t,  you  t^ike  my  breath  away  I  In  the 
first  place  I  don't  fancy  Miss  Lambert  ever  wasted  a 
thought  on  me,  except  as  to  how  f ai- 1  might  be  of  use  to 
you." 

"  I  know  that ;  I  am  sui'e  of  it.  If  I  thought  she  was 
in  love  with  you  I  don't  think  I  could  s^Deak  out  like  this. 
No,  love  hasn't  come  into  her  heart  yet,  and  you  are  too 
mucli  a  high-minded  gentleman  to  try  and  rouse  it ;  but 
she  could  love  well ;  and  look  here,  I  have  saved  up  and 
invested  nearly  five  thousand  pounds — I'll  make  it  five 
full — that  would-  be  a  nice  lift  to  whatever  business  you 
are  in.  You  see  how  I  trust  you.  I  don't  care  if  you 
have  a  struggle  ;  Elsie  is  no  foolish,  extravagant  doll." 

"  Pray  hear  me,"  interrupted  Glynn  with  difficulty  ;  "  so 
charming  a  creature  as  your  daughter,  wants  no  make- 
weight to  recommend  her ;  she  would  be  a  treasure  in 
herself  to  any  man  of  taste  and  feeling.  But  I  do  not 
wish  or  intend  to  marry  for  a  considerable  time  to  come," 
he  continued,  with  increasing  fh'raness,  quite  determined 
not  to  jdeld  to  the  suggestion  of  another  what  he  denied 
to  the  passionate  craving  of  his  ovna  heart.  "  As  you  say, 
we  are  men  of  the  world,  and  can  discuss  such  a  question 
coolly  and  fairly  ^athout,  on  my  part,  the  smallest  infringe- 
ment of  the  wann  respect  and  regard  I  feel  for  IVIiss 
Lambert.  There  are  circumstances — reasons  on  which  it 
is  unnecessary  to  dilate — which  forbid  my  entei*taining 
your  flattering  and  attractive  proposition." 

"  Suppose  I  guess  what  they  are,"  said  Lambert,  eagerly 
roUing  up  a  cigarette,  and  scattering  the  shreds  of  tobacco 
as  he  did  so.  "  You're  a  bit  of  a  sweU,  I  calculate  ;  you 
are  among  a  desperate  respectable  set  of  city  bosses. 
Hear  me  now ;  I'm  not  thin-skinned.  I  know  I'm  not 
the  sort  that  would  go  down  with  them,  and  you  know  1 
was  a  queer  lot  once.  Well,  if  you  take  my  Elsie,  I'll  go 
right  away  ;  I'll  never  ask  to  trouble  you  or  her.  WTiat 
matter  what  becomes  of  me  if  she  is  safe  ? — oh,  God !  safe 


72  AT  BAT. 

with  an  honorable,  kind  man,  who  would  give  her  a  peace- 
ful home.  Ay,  Elsie,  I  love  you  well  enough  never  to  ask 
to  see  your  sweet  face  if  I  could  earn  peace  and  security 
for  you ! " 

"  And  do  you  think  she  would  love  a  husband  who  could 
part  her  from  such  a  father  as  you  are  ? "  asked  Glynn, 
deeply  touched. 

"  But  she  should  never  know," — eagerly  :  "  I'd  just  go 
away  on  business,  and  stay  away,  and  she'd  forget ;  she 
would  always  have  a  kind  thought  for  me,  but  the  new 
love  would  fill  her  heart ;  and  if  you  tried  to  win  her 
she'd  love  you,  I  am  sm-e  she  would !  Now,  can't  it  be, 
Glynn?— can't  it?" 

"  No.  It  is  with  deepest  reluctance  I  say  it.  If  I  can 
in  any  way  serve  you  or  her,  command  me  ;  but  unfor- 
tunately for  myself  this  cannot  be." 

There  was  a  slioii  expressive  silence  ;  then  Lamliert  said 
in  an  altered  voice,  "Anyhow,  there  is  no  harm  done  ;  I 
am  sure  you've  some  good  reason,  and  we'll  not  be  the 
worse  friends  because  we  can  be  nothing  nearer." 

"  Certainly  not ;  and  for  my  part  I  have  a  higher  esteem 
for  you  than  I  ever  had  before.  I  trust,  however,  that 
you  have  no  serious  cause  for  uneasiness  about  youi* 
daughter.  If  her  little  foiiune  is  secui-ed,  these  are  too 
prosaic  times  for  daring  and  villainous  lovers,  muixlerous 
conspirators,  or  other  dramatic  dangers." 

"  A}',  civilization  is  just  deep  enough  to  hide  the  devils 
that  work  underneath  it.  I  had  one  or  two  things  to  tell 
a  son-in-law  that,  maybe,  I  had  better  keep  to  myself 
now." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  you  will  not  look  on  me  as  the  less 
warm  a  friend  because  I  cannot  unfortunately  fall  in  with 
your  views  ;  you  do  not  wish  me  to  absent  myself?  " 

"•  Far  from  it,"  interrupted  Lambert ;  "  be  true  to  me — 
be  true  to  her  ;  maybe  by  and  by  you'll  have  a  good  wife 
that  might  befriend  my  girl ;  she  has  no  one  in  the  world 
belonging  to  her  but  myself,  and  I  begin  to  fear  I  am  a 
broken  ree4." 

"  My  marriage  is  a  remote  contingency,"  said  Glynn. 
"  Were  you  in  London,  I  could  introduce  Miss  Lambert 
to  a  somewhat  peculiar  but  kind-hearted  woman,  a  con- 
nection of  mine,  who  would  most  probably  be  interested 


A    LAST   CARD.  73 

in  lier, — I  was  going  to  f3ay  clianned  with  her,  only  it  ia 
hard  to  answer  for  the  im}Dres3ion  one  woman  maj  make 
upon  another." 

"  Everything  is  hard,"  remarked  Lambert  moodih',  and 
as  if  to  himself.  "  AVell,  let  us  forget  this  fruitless  palaver, 
and  be  as  we  were.  I  am  quite  sure  you  are  ready  to  do 
me  a  good  turn  if  you  can — if — Ah  !  I  hear  Elsie  singing. 
Come  along,  let  us  forget  our  troubles  for  a  bit  over  a 
game  of  baccarat." 

But  Glynn  did  not  attend  to  his  cards,  his  head  was  in 
a  whirl.  He  Avas  infinitely  touched  by  the  unconscious- 
ness of  the  songstress,  who  received  them  with  the  soft 
composure  peculiar  to  her,  which  had  in  it  so  much 
womanly  dignity.  How  little  she  dreamed  that  the  man 
who  thrilled  at  her  touch,  who  drank  in  the  tones  of  her 
voice  greedily,  had  refused  to  share  his  life  with  her — 
had  rejected  the  chance  of  winning  her,  for  Gljmn  ac- 
knowledged there  was  a  "  con  "  as  well  as  a  "  pro  "  in  the 
case.  He  had  survived  the  age  at  which  men  think  they 
have  but  to  ask  and  they  must  receive. 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Glynn,"  said  Elsie,  suddenly  turning  to  him, 
"  Madame  Davilliers  begs  you  to  take  a  ticket  for  a  ball 
which  is  to  be  given  at  the  Louvre  Hotel,  for  the  benefit 
of  an  orphanage  under  the  direction  of  sisters  of  St.  Vin- 
cent de  Paul.     Madame  is  one  of  the  committee." 

"  I  shall  be  very  happy.     Are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is,  if  my  father  can  spare  me."  She  rose 
as  she  spoke  and  turned  towards  Lambert,  who  was  sitting 
in  an  attitude  of  deep  dejection,  his  cards  lying  on  the 
table  beside  him. 

"  Dearest,"  said  Elsie,  stealing  to  his  side,  and  laying 
her  cool  white  hand  on  his  brow,  "  does  your  head 
ache?" 

"No,  no,  not  much";  then  with  a  sudden  impulse,  "You 
love  your  dad  then,  though  he  is  a  rugged  old  cuss  ?  " 

Elsie  smiled,  an  exquisitely  tender  smile.  "  So  well,  that 
nothing  and  no  one  could  make  up  for  the  want  of  him." 

Glynn  was  struck  vsdth  her  words.  Could  she  by  any 
possibility  have  overheard  her  father's  proposal,  and  his 
refusal?  Such  an  idea  was  appalling.  But  no,  it  was 
quite  impossible. 


CHAPTER  V. 

VANISHED. 

Glyxn  waa  far  from  being  satisSod  witli  his  own  deci- 
sion. Of  course  tlie  mere  fact  of  Laving  any  wouxiu 
offered  to  him  is  enough  to  make  an  Enghshman  reject 
iier,  were  she  an  amalgamation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
Florence  Nightingale,  Venus,  and  Psyche  in  one.  That 
he  should  decline  Lambert's  suggestion  was  right  enough, 
though  the  evident  singleness  of  purpose,  the  intense 
fatherly  feeling  which  prompted  him,  took  from  his  strange 
proceeding  all  trace  of  coarse  worldliness  ;  but  having 
congratulated  himself  on  his  own  wisdom  and  firmness, 
another  train  of  thought  put  itself  in  motion,  haunting 
him  with  maddening  pertinacity  in  all  his  comings  and 
goings  throughout  the  day  which  succeeded  the  memo- 
rable conversation.  Elsie's  face,  her  eyes,  the  quiet  grace 
of  her  figure  and  movements,  were  perpetually  before  him. 
Her  tender  gravity,  which  did  not  prevent  her  from  enjoy- 
ing in  brief  light  flashes  of  perception  the  droU  side  of 
things,  the  generous  sympathy,  ever  ready  to  well  up  when 
needed, — all  this  was  vividly  present  to  his  imagination. 
Had  he  done  well  to  turn  from  so  rich  a  store  of  goodly 
gifts  because  it  was  sot  in  uncouth  surroundings?  Was 
it  the  part  of  a  true  man  to  count  the  cost,  to  shrink  from 
any  possible  risk,  rather  than  to  brave  all  things  for  true 
love  ?  When  and  where  should  he  find  a  companion  so 
sweet,  so  intelligent,  so  satisfying  to  heart  and  sense? 
Then  again  came  the  doubt, — would  it  be  well  to  plant  in 
the  midst  of  one's  liome  and  its  sanctities  this  branch  of 
a  wild  vine,  lovely  though  it  was?  Might  not  soitow  and 
disgi-aceful  associations  be  the  l)itter  fruit  thereof  ?  How 
would  imperfect  human  nature — imperfect  human  love, 
stand  such  a  test?  If  Elsie  loved  him,  then  he  would 
dare  aU  things;  but  she  did  not.  It  would  be  better  for 
her,  as  well  as  for  him,  to  leave  her  in  the  tranquillity  of 
(74) 


indifference  than  awaken  an  interest  that  could  only  lead 
to  trouble.  Yes,  he  would  continue  to  preserve  the  tone 
of  quiet  friendliness  he  had  adopted.  Still  he  must  not 
leave  Paris  immediately.  He  would  not  desert  poor 
Lambert,  who  was  evidently  in  a  mess  of  some  kind. 
Later  on  he  would  probably  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  So 
as  it  was  Friday,  Glynn  determined  to  go  to  Madame 
Davilliers'  in  the  evening,  for  the  result  of  his  wise  cogita- 
tions was  a  burning  desire  to  meet  Miss  Lambeii  to 
assure  himself  of  her  indifference. 

The  gathering  at  Madame  DaviUiers'  was  less  crowded 
than  usual ;  still  a  considerable  number  of  visitors  were 
present,  among  them  one  or  two  professional  singers  and 
Mr.  Vincent,  who  was  talking  to  Elsie  when  Gh-nn  made 
his  appearance.  He  was  soon  called  away,  however,  by  the 
hostess,  and  Glynn  eagerly  took  his  place. 

Elsie  greeted  him  with  a  bright  amused  smile,  as  though 
his  presence  suggested  some  droU  idea. 

"  I  don't  see  your  father  here  to-night,"  said  Glynn. 

"  He  has  been  called  rather  suddenly  to  Dunkerque," 
she  replied,  "but  wiU  return  on  Monday.  He  seemed 
in  better  spirits,  and  I  think  the  change  wiU  do  him 
good." 

"  I  hope  so,  especially  as  you  reflect  his  moods.  You 
are  looking  more  like  yourself  than  when  I  first  returned." 

"  Ah,  I  was  very  miserable  then.  But  one  reason  why  I 
feel  so  much  brighter  is  that  my  father  has  j)romised  I 
shall  go  for  a  few  months  to  Mrs.  KeUett,  to  my  old 
home,  Woodburn,  and  then  we  shall  give  up  our  elage 
here." 

"And  how  will  you  bear  the  seclusion — the  change  from 
Parisian  gaieties  ? "  looking  earnestly  into  her  eyes,  and 
wondering  what  motive  underlay  this  sudden  scheme. 

"  I  shall  like  it  very  much  ;  I'should  like  anything  that 
would  secure  peace." 

"  Pray,  monsieur,"  said  Madame  Davilliers,  who  came 
up  at  that  moment,  "  have  you  received  your  card  for  the 
ball  on  the  20th?  Our  young  debutantes,  Mademoiselle 
Lambert  and  my  Antoinette,  count  on  you  for  one  of  their 
partners." 

"  I  am  infinitely  honored  ;  but  I  fear  my  dancing  is  not 
of  the  best.  However,  in  such  a  cause,  one  would  attempt 
the  impossible." 


76  AT   BAT. 

"  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  amiable  Monsieur 
Dcrin  is  not  iu  town  ;  and  ce  chnr  M,  Vincent  does  not 
kno\y  when  he.  will  return.  Still  our  party  will  be  lai'ge 
and  distingue." 

Of  tliat  Glynn  had  no  doubt.  He  had  received  his 
ticket,  and  if  still  in  Paris  would  certainly  present  himself, 
etc.,  etc. 

Then  he  felt  obliged  to  offer  his  congratulations  to 
Mademoiselle  Antoinette,  after  which  M.  Le  Vicomte  was 
introduced,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  half  the  evening 
was  over  before  he  managed  to  return  to  Elsie.  She  was 
by  no  means  solitary  or  neglected,  however.  Antoinette 
chattered  perseveringly  at  her  side,  and  various  well- 
dressed  employes  in  sundry  imperial  bureaus  bestowed 
fragments  of  their  time  upon  her.  Vincent  came  back 
more  than  once  to  her  side,  and  was  tranquilly,  if  not 
favorably,  received.  At  last  Glynn  contrived  to  obtain  a 
scat  beside  her. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  sing  to-night  ?  " 

"  No  ;  these  gentlemen  and  Madame  d'ltalia  will  give  us 
far  better  music  than  I  can." 

"  Not  in  my  opinion ;  your  singing  goes  straight  to  my 
heart." 

Elsie  smiled  and  looked  at  her  fan.  GljTin  felt  almost 
irresistibly  impelled  to  tell  her  how  charming  she  was,  but 
he  did  resist. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  not  call  while  your  father  is  absent," 
he  resumed  ;  "  and  I  have  found  some  dehghtful  volumes 
in  Tauclmitz,  which  I  should  like  to  give  you." 

"  Can  you  not  send  thorn  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  at  him 
with  laughing  eyes.  "  I  want  books  very  much  ;  no  one 
gives  me  books  but  you." 

"  Then  I  must  bring  them  myself," 

"  "VVhy  not  ?  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you,  so  will 
Madame  Weber." 

"  Thank  you !     May  I  come  to-moiTow  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  ?  No  ;  to-morrow  I  go  -with  Antoinette  to 
visit  the  good  ladies  of  the  Annonciades,  the  convent 
where  we  were  at  school.  But  come  on  Sunday  if  you 
like.  On  Monday  my  dear  father  will  be  with  me  again  ; 
then  he  will  be  able  to  tell  me  when  we  can  go  to  Eng- 
land." 


VANISHED.  77 

"But  you  will  return  to  Paris  ? " 

"I  do  not  know  ;  nothing  is  certain." 

"  I  hope  you  will  promise  certainly  to  dance  with  me  at 
this  baU." 

"  Shall  you  be  here  when  it  takes  place  ? '' 

"  Yes,  ceiiainly  ;  nothing  shall  prevent  me  from  being 
present," 

A  faint  color  flickered  over  Elsie's  cheek,  as  if  this 
resolution  implied  a  personal  comjjliment,  and  an  amused 
smile  parted  lier  lips. 

"  Then  you  like  dancing  ?  " 

"  That  depends.  At  any  rate  I  want  to  dance  the  first 
dance  with  you  at  your  first  ball." 

'  Elsie  laughed.  "  Very  well.  But  though  I  have  never 
been  at  a  great  ball,  I  have  been  at  several  soirees  dansantes 
with  Madame  Davilliers.  Whenever  Antoinette  went  they 
kindly  took  me." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  are  fond  of  dancing  ?  " 

"  I  love  it,"  earnestly. 

"  Does  your  friend  Vincent  dance  well  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  does  ;  most  Americans  do  ;  but  he  is  not 
my  friend,  and  I  cannot  bear  to  dance  with  him." 

"You  receive  him  very  well  considering  you  do  not  like 
him." 

Elsie  paused  an  instant,  and  looking  up  witb  an  expres- 
sion of  trust,  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  am  afraid  of  him." 

"  Why  ?  "  drawing  unconsciously  nearer  to  her. 

"  I  cannot  tell — no,  that  is  not  quite  true  ;  I  begin,  T 
think,  to  understand  why." 

"  And  will  you  not  tell  me  ?  " 

"  I  should  rather  like  to  tell  you,  but  not  here." 

"  On  Sunday,  then,  when  I  bring  you  your  books  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  do  not  want  to  mention  his  name  before 
Madame  Weber." 

"  Is  she  a  friend  of  his  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure,  but  it  is  well  to  be  cautious." 

"  It  gives  me  a  kind  of  shock  to  think  you  are  obliged 
to  be  on  guard  in  your  own  home." 

"  That  will  be  all  over  when  I  am  at  Woodburn." 

"  I  wish  your  father  would  come  and  settle  in  London  ; 
it  would  be  pleasant  and  useful  for  you  to  have  some* 
English  friends." 


78  AT   BAY. 

"  It  is  more  likely  my  father  would  settle  in  America." 

"  Then  I  should  never  see  you  !  " 

The  words  had  passed  his  lijis  before  he  could  restrain 
them,  and  he  watched  theii'  effect  keenly. 

"  I  supi^ose  not,"  very  quietly.  "  I  should  be  sorry, 
and  my  father  would  be  very  sony." 

Glynn  felt  unreasonably  u-ritated.  Was  this  young, 
slight,  inexperienced  gui  stronger  than  himself,  that  the 
tone  in  which  he  was  conscious  his  words  were  uttered 
should  in  no  way  move  her  ?  He  was  dimly  awai'e  of  a 
change  in  her  manner,  so  delicate  as  to  be  indefinable  ;  it 
was  not  less  friendly,  but  more  collected,  as  if  she  thought 
before  she  spoke. 

But  Antoinette,  approaching  with  an  elderly  cousin  of 
hev  fiance,  who  had  requested  an  introduction  to  the  belle 
Americaine,  put  an  end  to  their  conversation,  and  not  long 
after  Elsie  went  away. 

The  days  which  intervened  between  Lambert's  sudden 
journey  to  Dunkerque  and  the  ball  went  rapidlj'^ — too 
rapidly.  Glynn  dined  t'nice  in  the  Rue  de  L'Evtque. 
Lauibei-t  was  grave,  biit  less  dejected  than  pre%'iously. 
He  had  tlie  air  of  a  man  who  had  escaped  from  a  period 
of  indecision,  and  had  tlioroughly  made  up  his  mind. 
Glynn,  on  the  contrary,  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
quicksands  of  irresolution,  and  felt  each  day  more  vividly 
how  strong  an  effoi-t  it  would  cost  him  to  teai*  himself 
awa}' ;  how  imisossible  it  seemed  to  leave  Elsie  to  tlie 
chances  of  undefined  danger,  none  the  less  foi-midable 
because  it  was  impalpable. 

It  was  with  an  unaccountable  impression  that  something 
impoi-tant,  somethiag  decisive  would  occur  before  the 
evening  was  over.  Glynn  dressed  and  dined,  taking  cai*e 
to  be  in  the  ball-room  and  near  the  door  in  good  time,  in 
order  to  claim  Elsie's  promise  of  the  first  dance  on  her 
arri\.J.  Madame  Davilliers  and  her  party  were  rather 
late,  and,  to  Glynn's  annoyance,  she  entered  the  room 
leaning  on  Vincent's  arm.  Mademoiselle  followed,  con- 
ducted by  the  Vicomte,  and  finalh'  Elsie,  leaning  on  M. 
Davilliers — ^Elsie  in  her  first  bixll-di'ess,  a  delicious  com- 
bination of  wbite  silk  and  tulh  and  lace,  with  sprays  of 
wild  roses,  long  gi-ass,  and  foliage,  a  delicate  wreatli  of 
the  same  flowers  iu  her  hair,  and  a  sunple  necklace  of 


VANISHED.  79 

Bhimmering  Venetian  shells  round  her  throat.  She  looked 
a  little  shy,  a  little  self-conscious,  less  composed  than 
usual,  and  when  she  distiuf^^uished  Glynu's  taU  figure,  and 
met  his  dark,  eager,  admiring  eyes,  she  colored  suddenly, 
looking  away  with  a  smile  so  sweet,  so  glad,  that  Glynn's 
heart  gave  a  quick  bound,  and  throbbed  with  a  triumph- 
ant sense  of  victory,  after  which  reason  gave  up  the 
struggle  and  resigned  herseK  to  defeat. 

"  Tliis  is  our  dance.  Miss  Lambert,"  said  Glynn,  after  a 
brief  greeting  to  the  rest  of  the  party  as  he  took  her  hand. 
"  But  it  is  a  set  of  lancers  ;  would  you  not  like  to  walk 
round  and  look  at  the  decorati'ons  until  the  next  dance, 
which  is  a  waltz  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  should."  So  Glynn  took  her  programme 
and  wrote  his  own  name  for  several  waltzes,  prefacing 
each  inscription  with  a  persuasive  "  May  I  ?  "  Elsie  laugh- 
ingly restricted  the  number,  saying  she  had  promised 
some  dances  to  M.  Davilliers,  Henri  Le  Clerc,  and  M.  de 
Pontigny.  "  But,"  slie  added,  with  sHght  graceful  hesita- 
tion, "  if  it  does  not  interfere  with  your  other  dances, 
might  I  say  I  am  engaged  to  you  if  Mi*.  Vincent  asks  me 
for  a  waltz?  I  must  dance  with  him,  but  not  a  waltz, — I 
cannot." 

"  Yes,  I  will  grant  your  very  serious  request,"  said 
Glynn,  smiling  down  upon  her.  "  I  shall  keep  all  waltzes 
at  your  disposal,  and  take  care  to  be  within  hail !  Is  it 
permitted  to  a  brutal  Englishman  to  say  youi*  toilette  is 
perfect  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  think  so  ;  it  is  chiefly  Madame 
Davilliers'  choice.  It  pleased  my  father,  who  never  counts 
the  cost  of  anything  for  me,"  she  sighed. 

"  Why  is  Lambert  not  here  to  see  your  triumph  ?  " 

"  He  did  think  of  coming,  but  felt  too  tired  ;  he  has 
been  very  busy,  so  it  was  decided  that  I  should  come  with 
the  Davilliers  ;  and  if  we  stay  very  late  I  am  to  go  home 
with  them,  for  my  father  always  wakes  when  I  come  in." 

The  decorations  were  duly  admired,  and  then  the  wait? 
for  which  Gl}Tm  had  been  longing  struck  up. 

Given  good  music,  a  first-rate  floor,  a  partner  whose 
step  suits  yours,  and  waltzing  is  certainly  a  pleasant  exer- 
cise ;  but  when  in  addition  your  partner  is  just  the  very 
creature  that  you  have  felt  tempted  over  and  over  again 


80  AT  BAY. 

to  clasp  in  your  arms,  and  pour  out  expressions  of  tender- 
ness and  admiration  while  your  heart  throbs  against  hers, 
the  pleasure  becomes  almost  painful. 

Glynn,  as  the  hours  went  rapidly  by,  felt  his  power  over 
himself  melting  away  ;  there  was  a  soft  reserve,  a  frequent 
avoidance  of  being  alone  with  him  on  the  pai-t  of  Miss 
Lambert,  that  fanned  the  long-smouldering  fire  of  passion 
into  a  strong,  an  irresistible  glow.  Why  should  he  let 
himself  be  cheated  by  cold  caution  out  of  the  dehcious, 
perhaps  invigorating  draught  which  foi-tune  offered  him  ? 
He  was  no  mere  conventional  man  of  the  world  to  turn 
his  back  on  a  woman  worthy  of  aU  love  because  her  father 
was  not  exactly  eligible  to  be  comptroller  of  Her  Majesty's 
household !  He  would  be  true  to  his  better  instincts,  his 
higher  self. 

Meantime  it  was  infinitely  in-itating  to  be  obliged  to 
give  up  his  fascinating  partner  from  time  to  time  as  other 
cavaliers  came  to  claim  her. 

Suddenly,  as  he  was  leading  her  across  the  room  to 
Madame  DavilHers,  he  felt  her  start  and  press  his  ann,  a 
movement  which  he  attributed  to  Vincent's  approach. 

"  You  have  not  granted  me  a  waltz  yet.  Miss  Lambert ; 
may  I  have  the  next  ?  "  said  the  American. 

"  I  am  engaged  for  the  next." 

"  Indeed  1  to  ]VL.\  Gl^Tm  ?  He  has  been  so  highly  fa- 
vored that  I  think  he  might  permit  a  change  of  jjai-tners, 
as  I  am  obliged  to  leave  almost  immediately,  and  shall 
not  see  you  again  for  some  time.  I  stari  by  the  early 
mail  for  Bordeaux  to-morrow,  or  rather  this  moniing." 

"  I  have  less  benevolence  than  you  credit  me  v/ith,"  said 
Glynn  haughtily.  "  I  am  not  disposed  to  forego  an  iota 
of  my  temporary  right." 

"  tSliat  would  your  father  say  to  your  desertion  of  your 
old  friend  for  a  new  acquaintance  ?  "  asked  Vincent  with 
an  unpleasant  laugh. 

To  Glynn's  siu-prise  Elsie  made  a  slight  movement  as  if 
to  withdi-aw  her  arm.  Glynn  held  it  tightly  against  his 
Bide. 

"  I  have  not  deserted  you,  Mr.  Vincent,"  she  said  quietly, 
as  if  recovering  her  first  impulse  to  leave  Glynn,  "  for  I 
was  not  engaged  to  you." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  we  will  discuss  that  point  when  we  meet 


VANISHED.  81 

next,"  returned  Vincent  with  insolent  assurance.  "  Mean- 
time au  revoir,  Miss  Lambert.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Glynn  ;  I 
don't  suppose  I  shall  see  you  again."  He  made  a  sort  of 
dej&ant  bow  and  turned  away, 

"  Come  and  sit  do-vNTi  in  the  ante-room,"  said  Glynn, 
"  it  is  cool  and  quiet ;  that  brute  has  disturbed  you." 
Miss  Lambert  silently  accepted  the  suggestion,  and  as  a 
new  dance  proceeded  they  were  soon  alone. 

"For  heaven's  sake  tell  me  what  it  is  that  enables  that 
fellow  to  annoy  you  ?  "  said  Glynn  earnestly  ;  "  you  said 
you  would  tell  me." 

"  I  never  liked  him,  but  latterly  I  perceive  that  he  has 
some  curious  influence  over  my  father,  who  has  even 
asked  me  to  be  civil  to  him.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  tell 
you  this,  but  my  father  trusts  you,  and  I — I  believe  you 
are  loyal.  I  am  still  uneasy  about  my  father.  He  is  so 
restless,  and  I  imagine  he  is  always  more  restless  when  he 
has  been  with  Mr.  Vincent.  I  sometimes  think  that  my 
father  has  had  a  hard,  sad  life,  though  he  tries  to  forget 
his  troubles,  and  I  want  to  make  up  to  him  for  the  past. 
He  loves  me  so  much  that  I  must  do  everything  for  him, 
and  be  with  him  always." 

"  The  young  cannot  always  promise  for  their  future,  and 
he  would  be  happiest,  knowing  you  were  happy." 

"But  /  should  not;  he  deserves  all  I  can  do,  and  it 
would  htui  me,  oh !  cruelly,  to  think  he  ever  wanted  any- 
thing when  I  was  not  there  to  give  it  to  him."  The  sweet, 
soft  lips  quivered  with  feeling  as  slie  spoke. 

"  This  is  a  heart  worth  winning,"  thought  Glynn,  as  he 
gazed  on  her  pensive,  downcast  face. 

"I  wish  he  would  tell  you  something  about  Mr.  Vincent 
before  you  go,"  continued  Elsie.  "  I  feel  oppressed  with 
a  sense  of  indefinable  mischief." 

"  Before  I  go ! "  repeated  Glynn.  "  How  do  you  know 
I  am  going  ?  " 

"  I  heard  my  father  say  you  were  going,  and  of  course 
you  will  not  stay  in  Paris  " 

"I  cannot  tear  myself  from  it,"  said  Glynn  with  passion- 
ate emphasis. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Elsie,  looking  up  surprised,  then  meet- 
ing his  gaze,  a  vivid  blush  passed  over  her  cheek,  fadin^r 
away  quickly. 

6 


82  AT    BAY. 

"Why?"  he  exclaimetl.  "May  I  come  and  tell  you 
why '?  to-mon-ow  will  you  hear  my  explanation,  with  kind- 
ness, with  patience  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  "  she  returned,  shrinking  slightly,  "  it  is  late — 
Madame  Davilliers  wiU  be  looking  for  me." 

"  But,  Elsie,  may  I  come, — mil  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said,  very  gravely  and  softly,  "you  may 
come."  Other  couj^les  now  invaded  their  solitude,  and 
Glynn  was  obliged  to  take  her  to  her  chaperon. 

Madame  Davilliers  was  ready  to  leave  the  ball,  and 
observed  that  the  dear  child,  meaning  Elsie,  looked  quite 
tired. 

Gl^Tin  accompanied  them  to  the  door,  wrapping  Elsie's 
cloak  round  her  carefvilly. 

"To-morrow,"  he  whispered,  pressing  her  arm  to  his 
side.     She  looked  up — a  serious,  searching  look. 

"  You  puzzle  me !  "  she  said. 

" How?  but  you  will  tell  me  how  and  why  1  When  may 
I  come  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  In  the  afternoon." 

"You  wiU  stay  with  us  to-night,  chere  Elsie?"  cried 
Madame  Davilliers  from  tlie  carriage. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  but  I  should  rather  go  home  ;  I 
have  caught  cold,  I  think."  Her  voice  was  unsteady,  and 
Glynn  noticed  that  she  was  trembling.  He  longed  to 
speak  some  soothing  words  to  her,  but  there  was  no  jiossi- 
bility  of  doing  so.  The  next  moment  the  door  was  shut, 
the  coachman  ordered  to  drive  to  the  Rue  de  L'Eveque, 
and  Glynn  left  gazing  after  the  retreating  vehicle. 

Bidding  good-night  to  young  Le  Clerc,  who  was  return- 
ing to  the  ball-room,  Glynn  lit  his  cigar,  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  It  was  a  heavy,  intensely 
dark  night ;  but  he  was  too  much  excited  to  feel  atmos- 
pheric influences.  In  his  own  mind  he  had  passed  the 
rubicon;  and  his  request  to  Elsie  for  an  interview  on  the 
morrow  had,  he  considered,  pledged  him  to  offer  his 
future  life  for  her  acceptance.  Would  she  accept  it  ?  He 
was  too  deeply  and  truly  in  love  to  make  sure  of  the  im- 
pression he  had  created  himself,  too  much  in  earnest  not 
to  be  humble.  Elsie  had  been  startled,  touched  ;  but  it 
did  not  follow  that  she  loved  him.  However  she  de- 
cided, he  was  glad  he  had  spoken  as  he  did.     She  must 


VANISHED.  83 

know  what  his  intended  explanation  meant;  would  she 
have  promised  to  hear  it  if  she  were  not  disposed  to  hear 
it  favorably  ?  If ! — what  rapture  of  anticipation  shivered 
throiigh  him  at  the  possibilities  thus  suggested.  Then  he 
almost  laughed  aloud  at  the  idea  of  Lady  Gethin's  anger 
and  despair  at  such  a  marriage  as  he  contemplated,  fle 
even  pictured  a  future  home,  so  peaceful,  so  lovingly 
home-like,  that  not  even  the  tolerably  frequent  visits  of 
Lambert  in  his  gorgeous  array  and  most  anecdotal  mood 
should  distm'b  its  delicious  harmony!  The  first  faint 
streaks  of  daylight  were  stealing  across  tlie  eastern  sky 
when  Glynn  at  length  entered  his  hotel. 

The  porter  handed  him  his  key,  and  with  it  a  card,  on 
which  was  printed,  "Travers  Deering,  Denham  Castle," 
and  written  in  pencil,  "Want  j)articularly  to  see  you. 
Will  caU  to-morrow  about  two. 

"  What  an  infernal  nuisance !  "  was  Glynn's  rather  pro- 
fane reflection  ;  "he  shall  not  keep  me  here  after  2.30  if 
it  were  to  save  his  life !  " 

Deering  was  not  punctual.  It  was  already  two  o'clock 
when  he  presented  himself,  and  he  at  once  asked  Glynn 
to  let  their  interview  take  place  in  the  latter's  private  room, 
as  he  wished  to  speak  of  personal  matters.  They  there- 
fore adjourned  from  the  general  salon,  and  Deering 
quickly  plunged  into  his  subject,  which  was  to  ask  Glynn's 
advice  as  to  the  organizing  of  a  scheme  for  making  a 
branch  from  the  main  line  of  railway,  which  ran  within 
eight  or  nine  miles  of  Denham,  to  some  villages  on  his 
estate,  and  past  a  certain  quarry  he  had  lately  begun  to 
work.  This  had  been  suggested  by  a  shrewd  land-agent, 
and  Deering  was  anxious  to  consult  Glynn  before  he  left 
Paris  for  his  summer  wanderings.  The  conversation 
which  ensued  was  animated  and  interesting  ;  but  Glynn 
did  not  forget  to  look  at  his  watch  from  time  to  time. 

"  I  see  I  am  keeping  you,"  said  Deering,  observing  his 
movement ;  "  I  shall  not  trespass  any  longer.  I  shall  fol- 
low your  advice,  and  see  the  heads  of  your  firm  as  to 
funds  on  my  way  through  London.  How  is  our  queer 
acquaintance  Lambert  and  his  incomparable  daughter? 
I  have  found  traces  of  a  curious  story  connected  with 
him,  whick  if  true ,"  as  he  spoke  the  door  was  burst 


84  AT   BA'i. 

open,  and  Lambert  rushed  in — Lambert  in  a  state  of  in- 
tense agonized  excitement.  His  eyes  wild  with  angiy 
terror,  his  face  pallid  through  all  the  deep  sunburn  of  its 
acquired  tint,  a  slight  froth  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth, 
his  necktie  disarranged,  his  hands  gloveless  ;  both  Deer- 
ing  and  Glynn  started  to  their  feet  at  this  unexpected  ap- 
parition, 

"  My  child ! "  cried  Lambert  hoarsely,  "  where  is  my 
child  ?  Deering,  you  limb  of  the  devil !  have  you  helped 
that  scoundrel  Vincent  to  take  her  away  ?  For  God's  sake 
teU  me !  have  mercy !  I'll  do  anything !  Glynn,  you  will 
help  mc  ?  you  are  an  honest,  honorable  man.  She's  gone, 
and  I  am  going  mad ! " 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  his  hearers  together,  "  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"Listen,"  said  Lambert,  gasping  as  if  for  breath,  and 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair.  "  She  was  at  the  ball  last 
night.  Why  did  I  ever  let  her  from  under  my  own  eyes ! . 
It  was  agi'eed  that  if  she  was  late  she  should  stay  at  the 
DavOliers',  When  I  asked  for  her  this  morning  tlae  bonne 
said  she  had  not  retm-ned,  so  I  thought  no  more  about  it, 
and  went  to  "work  as  usual.  I  had  some  business  ap- 
pointments, and  then  I  turned  into  Davilliers',  thinking 
I'd  walk  home  with  Elsie — my  ]ewel!  if  she  was  still 
there.  But  she  wasn't, — oh!  great  heavens!  they  had 
left  her  at  her  own  door,  seen  her  go  in,  and  >eard  it 
close  ;  and  now  she  is  gone ! " 

"  But  this  is  not  possible !  Mademoiselle  Antoinette  is 
playing  some  stupid  trick.     Have  you " 

"  I  tell  you  they  are  neaiiy  as  distracted  as  I  am,"  in- 
terrupted Lambert,  starting  up  and  grasping  the  b9<;k  of 
his  chair.  "  I  rushed  to  your  hotel,  Deering,  for  I  cannot 
help  thinking  Vincent  has  some  hand  in  it.  He  is  a 
double-dyed  scoundrel.  Deering,  I  charge  you  n^tt  to 
screen  him ! " 

"  How  dare  you  accuse  me  of  such  viUainy ! "  c^ried 
Deering  in  great  agitation.  "  I  am  as  ignorant  of  the 
affair  as  you  are — more  so  ;  don't  pretend  that  you  are 
without  suspicion.  She  has  not  been  taken  away  with- 
out her  own  consent ;  you  must  have  some  idea  who  it  is 
she  has  gone  off  with." 

Glynn,  in  the  midst  of  his  own  stunning  horror,  waj* 


VANISHED.  85 

struck  with  the  consternation  which  Deering's  face  ex- 
pressed, and  was  inchned  to  acquit  him  of  any  guilt  in 
the  matter. 

"  Have  you  been  to  the  pohce  ?  No  ;  for  God's  sake 
let  us  lose  no  time."  Glynn  seized  his  hat.  "  I  will  go 
with  you." 

"  I  returned  to  question  the  concierge  in  order  to  get 
some  clue  before  going  to  the  Prefecture  de  Police  ;  then 
I  felt  obliged  to  question  him,"  nodding  to  Deering,  "  to 
tell  you — to — Oh!  stand  by  me,  Glynn,  my  head  is 
going." 

"You  must  keep  calm  for  her  sake,"  said  Glynn  ; 
"  come  on,  if  she  is  above  ground  we'll  find  her !  " 

"  And  rU  second  you  so  far  as  I  can,"  cried  Deering, 
"  though  you  have  attacked  me  so  sliamefully," 

Lambert  witli  a  dazed,  half -stupefied  air,  stared  at  him, 
till  Glynn,  who  felt  his  own  head  reehng  under  the  shock, 
passed  his  arm  through  his,  and  led  him  to  the  fiacre 
which  was  waiting. 

Little  was  said,  except  to  urge  the  driver  to  greater 
speed,  until  they  reached  the  Rue  de  Jerusalem,  where, 
after  a  short  parley  with  one  or  two  lower  of&cials,  they 
were  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  chief  of  the  detectives, 
a  quiet,  simple-looking,  iron-grey  man,  with  watchful  eyes, 
and  a  clear,  penetrating  voice.  He  listened  with  profound 
attention  to  Lambert's  statement,  scarcely  putting  a  ques- 
tion, only  occasionally  restraining  the  details.  Lambert 
had  evidently  made  a  supreme  effort  to  master  his  terri- 
ble emotion,  the  vital  necessity  for  clearness  giving  him  a 
force  beyond  himself. 

While  Glynn  listened  with  agonized  keenness  to  the 
recital,  he  also  heard  the  whispered  terrors  of  his  own 
heart.  What  horror  had  befallen  the  tender,  dehcate 
darhng  whom  he  had  hoped  to  call  his  promised  wife  that 
day  ?  To  what  hideous  plot  had  she  fallen  a  victim  ?  He 
scarcely  knew  how  to  restrain  the  wild  impulse  to  rush 
forth  in  hopeless  blind  pursuit. 

Having  heard  all  particulars,  M.  Claude  (the  chef)  took  a 
sheet  of  paper,  and  demanded  a  description  of  the  young 
lady.  This  was  furnished  by  both  Lambert  and  Glynn, 
the  latter  eagerly  adding  some  characteristic  details  of 
which  even  the  father  did  not  think.     Claude  then  touched 


86  AT  BAT. 

a  bell,  and  ordered  the  subordinate  who  answered  it  to 

telegraph  the  description  at  once  to  every  seaport  and 
frontier-town  in  France,  •warning  the  police  de  surete  in  each 
place  to  arrest  any  person  answering  to  it,  no  matter  who 
accompanied. 

"  Time  has  been  lost  already,"  said  the  immovable  chef. 
"  Still,  things  are  always  discovered.  Have  the  goodness 
to  answer  my  questions." 

"  Will  you  say,"  broke  in  Deering  with  his  supreme  air, 
addressing  himself  to  Glynn,  "  that  I  shall  be  hajjpy  to 
guarantee  expenses." 

"  Damn  your  money !  "  cried  Lambert,  turning  on  him 
fiercely  ;  "  not  a  penny  of  it  shall  pay  for  the  recovery  of 
my  child." 

"  He  doesn't  know  what  he  is  saying,  poor  beggar,"  said 
Deering  in  an  undertone,  with  contemptuous  pity,  and  an 
evil  look  on  his  face,  "  As  I  don't  understand  what  is 
going  on,  I'll  leave  you.  I  have  an  idea  she'll  make  for 
England,  if  she  hasn't  gone  off  with  some  Yankee.  So  I 
shall  write  to  my  lawyers  to  stir  up  our  detectives.  I  will 
call  at  your  hotel  for  further  news  this  evening,  Gl^nu." 
He  left  the  bureau,  and  Glynn  gave  his  undivided  atten- 
tion to  the  interrogatories,  noting  with  despair,  which 
increased  every  moment,  the  hopelessness  of  the  search  in 
the  face  of  nearly  twenty-four  hours'  stai-t. 

That  the  extraordinary  ^nes.?e  of*  the  police  should  finally 
succeed  was  possible,  but  in  the  interim  what  crime  might 
not  be  committed  ? 

The  distinct  queries  of  the  astute  detecMve  established 
— That  Lambert  had  risen  at  his  usual  hour ;  that  on 
receiving  his  coffee  from  the  l)onne,  he  asked  if  mademoi- 
selle had  returned ;  and  finding  she  had  not,  remarked 
that  doubtless  she  had  danced  well  and  late,  so  it  was 
better  for  her  to  stay  at  Madame  Davilhers'  for  the  night 
He  also  inquired  if  Celestine,  the  bonne,  had  taken  her 
young  lady's  morning-dress  to  Madame  Davilliers',  to 
which  she  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

The  concierge  had  heard  the  bell  about  two  or  half-past, 
had  pulled  the  cordon,  heard  the  door  shut — it  was  a  heavy 
door — and  recognized  Mademoiselle  Lambert's  voice;  after 
that  there  was  no  trace. 

"Have  you  any  suspicion?  Had  your  daughter  an^ 
admirer  to  whom  you  were  averse  ?  " 


VANISHED.  87 

"No  ;  certainly  not." 

"  Certain  you  cannot  be  where  a  young  lady  is  in  ques- 
tion," said  M.  Claude  witli  quiet  cynicism.  "  But  is  tliere 
no  one  towards  whom  your  suspicion  points  ?  you  spoke 
angrily  to  the  gentleman  who  has  just  gone  out." 

"There  is  one  man  respecting  whom  I  have  some 
doubts,  and  that  gentleman  is  his  associate."  Lambert 
proceeded  to  describe  Vincent  with  considerable  accuracy, 
adding  that  he  had  more  than  once  demanded  the  hand  of 
his  daughter ;  but  that  the  young  lady  herself  was 
strongly  opposed  to  liim. 

Here  Glynn,  who  had  been  listening  with  painful,  fever- 
ish interest  to  the  dialogue,  volunteered  an  account  of  his 
appearance  at  the  ball  on  the  previous  night ;  of  his 
endeavor  to  persuade  Mademoiselle  Lambert  to  dance 
with  him,  and  his  avowed  intention  of  leaving  early  that 
morning  for  Bordeaux.  These  details  were  all  carefully 
noted  down. 

Then  M.  Claude,  rising,  said,  "  Now  to  view  the  house." 
He  strack  a  beU  which  stood  beside  his  desk,  and  while  he 
gave  some  instructions  to  the  officer  who  answered  his 
summons^  he  put  on  his  gloves,  locked  his  desk,  and 
directed  that  a  certain  commissaire  should  accompany  him 
to  M.  Lambert's  residence.  "  I  suj^pose  you  will  wish  to 
assist  in  the  examination  of  the  premises  ? "  said  M. 
Claude  ;  "you  ma}^  help  to  throw  light  on  the  case." 

"  Of  course  I  wiU  go  with  you." 

"  And  you  will  allow  me  to  assist  so  far  as  I  can,"  urged 
Glynn. 

"  But  can  nothing  more  be  done  ?  no  more  rapid  action 
taken?"  cried  the  fevered,  agitated  father,  letting  his 
closed  hand  fall  beavily  on  the  table.  The  chef  took  out 
his  watch,  glanced  at  it,  and  remarked  dramatically,  "It 
is  forty  minutes  since  I  noted  down  your  description  of 
your  daughter,  and  all  egress  from  France  is  closed  to 
her." 

Lambert  uttered  a  low  moan. 

"  We  must  let  them  work  their  own  way.  They  know 
what  they  are  about ;  but  the  suspense  is  almost  intoler 
able,"  said  Glynn,  whose  heart  was  bursting  with  despair 
and  remorse.  Wh}'^  had  he  not  accepted  Lambert's  propo- 
sition ?  Had  he  been  Elsie's  betrothed,  this  might  not 
have  happened  I 


e»  AT  BAT. 

The  drive  to  the  Rue  de  L'Eveque  seemed  endless; 
Lambei't  Bat  immovable  and  speechless.  Arrived,  the 
chef  de  la  surete  and  his  subaltern  immediately  proceeded 
to  examine  the  house  carefully,  and  to  question  the 
concierge  as  to  the  tenants.  In  the  rez-de-chaussee  was  the 
magasin  of  a  Patent  Pohsh  Stove  Company  ;  on  the  first 
etage  an  old  lady  with  her  son  and  daughter-in-law  re- 
sided. "  Persons  of  high  consideration,"  said  the  tearfvd 
concierge.  The  second  etage  was  vacant ;  M.  Lambeii  oc- 
cupied the  third.  Then  came  a  Professor  of  Music,  Mons. 
le  Capitain  Galliard,  Maitre  d'Armes,  and  others. 

Both  Lambert  and  Glynn  watched  with  quivering  inter- 
est the  deliberate  minuteness  of  the  examination,  first  of 
the  concierge,  then  of  the  house  itself.  The  Professor  of 
Music  and  the  Maitre  d'Armes  were  out,  so  M.  Claude 
contented  himself  for  the  present  by  asking  some  leading 
questions  about  them. 

Then  he  and  his  attendant  commissaire  ascended  to 
Lambert's  apartment,  and  questioned  Madame  Weber  and 
the  bonne  as  to  the  smallest  details  concerning  the  missing 
girl ;  her  character,  her  habits  of  life,  her  friends,  her  pur- 
suits, and  finally  asked  for  her  last  photogi-aj)h.  It  sent  a 
sharp  dai-t  of  angry  pain  through  Glynn's  heaii  to  see  the 
chefde  la  surete  and  his  aide-de-camp  coolly  examining  the 
portrait  which  to  him  had  a  certain  sanctity,  to  obsen^e  the 
unmoved  composure  of  the  practiced  detectives  in  face  of 
the  father's  despairing  anxiety,  the  professional  instinct 
which  subordinated  human  interest  to  the  keen  percep- 
tion of  possible  crime,  the  sleuth-hound  scent  for  a  legiti- 
mate i>rey. 

From  Lambert's  abode  they  proceeded  to  the  vacant 
etage,  which  the  concierge,  in  all  the  tearful  yet  delightful 
excitement  of  such  an  extraordinary  occurrence,  threw 
open  ^vith  eager  zeal. 

It  was  almost  the  same  as  the  dwelling  above,  and  after 
looking  carefully  through  the  empty  rooms  they  reached 
the  kitchen.     The  door  was  fastened. 

"  Tiens  !  "  cried  the  concierge,  looking  rapidly  through 
the  keys  she  carried,  "this  is  strange.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber locking  the  door,  and  I  have  not  been  in  here  more 
than  twice  since  the  day  you  looked  at  the  apartment. 
Monsieur  Lambert,  for  some  friends  who  thought  of  com- 
ing to  Paris." 


VANISHED.  89 

While  she  spoke  the  commissaire  had  thrust  the  blade 
of  his  penknife  into  the  kej-hole.  "  The  key  is  inside," 
he  said. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  cried  the  concierge. 

"Go  round  by  I'escalier  de  service  (back  stair)  with 
madame,"  said  M.  Claude  to  his  subordinate.  "There  is 
a  door  leading  thence  to  the  kitchen,  is  there  not  ?  " 

"  But  yes,  certainly  tliat  will  also  be  locked  ;  I  have  a 
pass-key,  however,  for  these  outer  doors."  A  few  minutes 
of  silent  waiting  and  voices  were  heard  within,  then  the 
door  was  opened  by  the  concierge,  whose  usually  rosy 
face  looked  a  yellowish  white.  "  Bon  dieu  I "  she  whis- 
pered, "  the  outside  door  was  unlocked,  and  here  is  the  key 
which  opens  both,  in  this  lock.  I  swear  that  the  day 
before  yesterday  I  locked  the  outside  door  carefully  ;  nor 
have  I  ascended  this  stair  since." 

"Let  us  examine  this  room  carefully,"  said  the  chef, 
with  a  shade  of  additional  gravity. 

The  search  was  most  thorough,  every  little  cuj^board, 
every  nook,  the  stove,  the  oven,  an  old  box,  every  inch  of 
the  dingy  empty  kitchen  was  minutely  scrutinized, — all 
present  assisting.  Suddenly  a  speck  of  white  in  a  dark 
corner  attracted  Glynn's  eye.  He  picked  it  up.  It  was 
a  morsel  of  fine  lace  entangled  with  a  knot  of  the  narrow- 
est black  velvet  ribbon,  from  which  dangled  a  broken  end. 
With  a  sickening  sensation  of  horror  and  dread  Glynn 
picked  up  this  infinitesimal  yet  eloquent  suggestion  of  a 
struggle,  and  silently  handed  it  to  M.  Claude. 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  that  functionary,  gazing  at  it  with 
some  mgerness  ;  then  he  added,  "  Mademoiselle  changed 
her  toilet  too  hastily." 

"  Good  God ! "  cried  Lambert,  "  she  wore  just  such  a 
velvet  string  as  this  through  the  lace  of  her  dress  ;  I  no- 
ticed it !  " — and  so  had  Glynn.  With  what  bitterness  he 
recalled  his  admiration  of  the  creamy  whiteness  of  her 
neck  contrasted  with  the  black  line  surrounding  it.  "  Do 
you — do  you  think  she  is  murdered  ?  "  continued  Lambert 
in  an  agonized  whisper,  staring  wildly  at  the  lace. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  said  M.  Claude,  apparently  somewhat 
moved  by  the  father's  intense  misery.  "  I  do  not  suppose 
her  life  would  be  attempted  by  any  one,  unless  indeed 
there  are  some  circumstances  in  her  or  your  history  with 


90  AT   BAT. 

which  I  am  tmacquainted.  But  I  believe  what  may  be  as 
bitter  as  her  death  to  you, — that  she  has  gone  with  her 
own  free  consent." 

"  And  that  I  never  can  beheve,"  cried  Lambert.  "  She — 
the  sweetest,  most  loving,  obedient  child  man  ever  had !  " 

"  Even  so,"  said  the  detective  with  a  tinge  of  sadness. 

"  The  affair  might  have  occurred  under  chloroform," 
said  the  commissaire  in  a  low  submissive  tone.  "  A  reso- 
lute practiced  villain  meets  her  ascending  the  stairs ;  a 
handkerchief  saturated  with  chlorof  onn  suddenly  wrapjied 
round  her  face  renders  her  helpless.  She  is  caiTied  through 
this  empty  apartment,  her  dress  changed  while  she  is  still 
insensible."  An  u-repressible  gi-oan  from  Glynn  made 
the  chef  de  la  surete  look  at  him.  "  They  carry  her  down- 
stairs," continued  the  commissaire. 

"  And  then,"  interrupted  the  concierge  shrilly,  "  they  are 
caught !  how  can  any  one  get  out  without  calling  me  ? 
My  faith !  do  you  think  I  neglect  my  duties,  or  that  a 
great  warrior  like  my  husband,  now  en  retraiie,  and  em- 
ployed at  the  Gare  St.  Lazare,  would  permit  half  a  dozen 
such  brigands  to  pass  ?  " 

"  Snence  !  "  said  M.  Claude,  impressively.  "  Feel  along 
the  floor,  in  that  comer  beyond  the  window." 

His  suborduiate  obeyed,  and  discovered  a  small  square 
of  chocolate,  a  few  crumbs  of  bread,  and  two  pins.  These 
last  were  most  carefully  examined. 

"  They  are  English,"  said  the  detective.  "  But  that  is 
easily  accounted  for  ;  the  person  or  persons  engaged  in 
the  abduction  evidently'  paiiook  of  refreshment ;  nor  is 
there  any  sign  leading  to  the  supposition  of  violence.  The 
difficulty  is  to  discover  how  they  managed  to  leave  the 
house.  At  what  hour  did  you  lock  the  door  and  put  out 
your  Hght  last  night  ?  "  to  the  concierge. 

In  reply  to  his  questions  she  stated  that  the  entrance 
door  was  always  locked  at  ten  o'clock,  but  that  she  herself 
often  sat  up  till  eleven.  Last  night,  feeling  weary,  she 
went  to  bed  at  half-past  ten.  Before  she  slept  the  bell 
rang,  and  she  pulled  the  cordon.  M.  Lambert's  voice  said 
who  was  there,  and  bid  her  good-night.  Twice  after,  en- 
trance was  demanded  by  different  inmates  ;  then,  after 
what  seemed  to  her  a  long  time,  some  one  rang,  and  wak- 
ing completely,  she  distinctly  heard  Miss  Lambert's  voice. 


VANISHED.  91 

She  did  not  sleep  again  for  what  seemed  to  her  more  than 
an  lapur,  during  which  all  was  profoundly  quiet.  She 
always  rose  before  six,  and  after  lighting  her  fire  to  pre- 
pare the  coffee  of  monsieur'  her  husband,  she  unlocked 
the  great  door  and  went  to  fiU  her  pail  with  water  at  a 
pumjD,  which  was  in  a  court  on  which  the  entrance  ojoened 
at  the  far  side  from  the  street,  in  order  to  wash  the 
passage. 

"  Can  you  see  the  chief  entrance  from  this  court  ?  " 

"  But  yes,  certainly." 

"  And  the  pump,  how  is  it  situated  ?  " 

"  About  the  centre." 

"  I  shall  inspect  it,"  said  M.  Claude.  Ha^dng  carefully 
wrapped  up  the  morsel  of  lace  and  ribbon,  the  square  of 
chocolate  and  the  two  pins,  and  placed  them  in  an  iimer 
pocket,  M.  Claude  led  the  way  down-stairs  to  the  coui-t 
mentioned  by  the  concierge,  followed  by  her,  Lambert, 
and  Glynn,  who  were  too  penetrated  by  the  sense  of  their 
own  helplessness  in  such  an  affair  to  offer  any  interference 
or  suggestion. 

The  court,  which  was  like  a  well,  being  surrounded  by 
lofty  houses,  was  exactly  opposite  the  entrance  ;  and  the 
pump,  as  stated,  was  in  the  centre,  but  vnth  its  back  to- 
wards the  doorway,  so  that  any  one  using  the  handle  to 
raise  the  water  would  naturally  turn  his  or  her  face  from 
it,  especially  as  it  was  necessary  to  watch  the  filling  of 
^vhatever  vessel  was  placed  below  the  spout.  After  look- 
ing carefully  at  the  relative  positions  of  the  door  and  the 
l)ump,  M.  Claude  requested  the  concierge  to  fill  a  pail  of 
water  as  she  was  in  the  habit  of  doing.  She  obeyed  ;  he 
stood  behind  her  during  the  operation,  and  at  the  end 
observed,  "The  fugitives  walked  through  the  open  door 
while  you  were  pumping  ;  no  force  or  chloroform  could 
have  been  used."  The  concierge  burst  into  tears.  "  Gen- 
tlemen," continued  the  chef  de  la  sdrete,  "  I  shall  now  pro- 
ceed to  Madame  Davilliers,  and  the  remainder  of  my  in- 
quiries I  wish  to  prosecute  alone.  M.  Lambert,  do  me 
the  favor  to  call  at  my  office  to-morrow  morning  about 
ten,  and  come  unaccompanied." 

"  And  can  you  do  no  more  to-day  ?  "  asked  poor  Lam- 
bert, his  moutJi  twitching  from  the  nervous  strain  of  sup- 
pressing his  cruel  anxiety. 


92  AT  BAT. 

"  I  consider  that  we  have  secured  a  clue.  I  feel  sure  of 
finding  jour  daughter  ;  if  not  immediately,  at  no  distant 
date." 

"  At  no  distant  date,"  repeated  the  father,  as  the  chef 
da  la  surete  left  the  house  followed  by  the  commissaire. 
"  But  in  the  meantime ! — Oh  God,  Glynn,  how  can  I  live 
on  such  a  rack,  and  I  don't  know  where  to  turn !  " 

"  It  is  almost  unbearable.  Can  you  remember  nothing 
that  might  seiTe  as  a  clue  to  her  exti'aordinary  disap- 
peai'ance  ?  " 

"  Nothing.     If  I  don't  find  her,  I  have  done  with  life." 

"  I  feel  for  you,  Lambert,  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul. 
I'd  give  all  I  possess  to  know  that  Elsie  is  safe !  you'll 
have  an  awful  night  of  it.     Shall  I  stay  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  best  alone,"  returned  Lambeil,  looking  sharplj 
at  him.  "  I  didn't  think  you  cared  so  much.  Thank  ye 
-I  am  best  alone." 


CHAPTER  YI. 

PURSUIT. 

Gltnn  had  known  some  rough  times  in  his  life,  hut  a 
stupendous  calamity  such  as  had  now  overtaken  him  can 
only  happen  once  in  an  existence.  Little  more  than 
twelve  hours  before  he  had  thrilled  at  Elsie's  touch,  and 
dreamed  of  winning  her  love !  "Why  had  he  not  accom- 
panied her  to  her  house,  and  seen  her  safely  within  her 
father's  door  ?  "What  was  the  dim  haze  of  mystery  which 
had  hung  about  her,  and  had  now  suddenly  deepened 
into  darkness  so  profound  that  it  defied  conjecture  ?  And 
suppose  she  were  discovered,  might  not  the  discovery  be 
nearly  as  terrible  as  the  loss?  In  spite  of  M.  Claude's 
profound  conviction  that  Miss  Lambert  had  gone  will- 
ingly, Glynn  could  not,  would  not  believe  that  there  was 
a  shadow  of  duplicity  in  the  soul  that  looked  so  candidly, 
so  earnestly  out  of  those  glorious  deep-blue  eyes.  No  ; 
but  she  might  have  been  decoyed  away  by  some  plausible 
story  ;  if  so,  she  was  not  wanting  in  coiu'age  and  resolu- 
tion ;  she  would  probabl}^  manage  to  communicate  with 
Lambert.  But  in  the  meantime  what  agonies  of  terror, 
what  unspeakable  distress  she  must  endure. 

After  a  hideous  night,  during  which  he  did  not  attempt 
to  undress,  Glynn  was  early  next  morning  at  the  Rue  de 
L'Eveque. 

Lambert  looked  less  terribly  agitated  than  he  was  the 
day  before,  but  he  had  an  e^austed,  stupefied  air,  as  if 
nature  could  not  hold  out  much  longer.  He  was  dressed 
and  ready  to  go  out,  however,  and  as  he  was  too  soon  for 
the  appointment  with  M.  Claude,  Glynn  accompanied  him 
to  see  Madame  Davilliers,  who  with  her  husband  had  vis- 
ited and  condoled  with  the  bereaved  father  taore  than 
once  during  the  previous  evening. 

They  found  her  still  much  agitated.  She  received 
Lambert  with  affectionate  sympathy,  but  talked  in  a  strain 

(93) 


94  AT  BAY. 

that  maddened  Glynn.  The  chef  de  la  surete  had  evidently 
communicated  to  her  his  own  behef  that  Elsie  had  fled 
willingly. 

"  Antoinette,"  she  said,  "  was  weeping  in  her  own  room; 
the  poor  child  could  not  of  course  understand  the  despair 
of  her  elders.  To  her  it  was  like  some  fairy  tale  of  a 
cruel  ogre;  the  less  she  heard  of  so  awful  a  catastrophe 
the  better.  It  is  not  for  me  to  jvidge  the  habits  of  other 
nations,"  continued  madame,  "but  the  results  of  such 
freedom  as  is  permitted  to  young  American  girls  cannot 
f a:l  to  be  fatal !  That  dear  Elsie  was  an  angel  of  goodness 
and  purity,  brought  up  by  those  holy  ladies  of  the  convent, 
and  all  the  more  likely  to  be  led  away,  because  of  her 
extreme  innocence.  She  "  (Madame  Davilliers)  "  was  the 
last  woman  to  be  taken  up  with  egotism  ;  but  the  disgrace 
of  such  an  occurrence  would  reflect  on  all  who  had  come 
in  contact  with  the  unhappy  one." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  think  my  child,  my  jewel, 
my  pride,  is  to  blame  ?  that  any  one  living  could  lead  her 
astray  ? "  almost  screamed  Lambert,  stung  from  his  de- 
spairing apathy  into  angry  excitement. 

"Dear  monsieur,  I  only  blame  your  system,  not  its 
victim ! " 

"  You  are  premature  in  your  conclusions,"  said  Glynn 
with  cold  displeasure.  "Within  twenty-four  hours  she 
will  no  doubt  be  discovered,  and  all  that  seems  inexplic- 
able explained." 

"  I  trust  it  may  be  so,  monsieur;  meanwhile  I  agree  with 
the  excellent  M.  Claude  that  the  affair  should  be  kept  as 
secret  as  possible  ;  rumor  will  make  everjiihing  worse 
than  it  really  is,  and  for  the  sake  of " 

"Adieu,  madame;  mine  is  too  terrible  an  affliction  to 
leave  room  for  thought  about  appearances ! "  cried  poor 
Lambert,  turning  away. 

"Poor  unhappy  father!  all  things  may  be  pardoned 
to  him,"  said  madame  compassionately  to  Glynn,  who 
bowed  silently  and  followed  his  distracted  friend. 

Arrived  at  the  Bureau  de  la  surete,  GljTin  remained 
outside,  slowly  pacing  the  street ;  and  while  he  waited, 
somewhat  to  his  surprise  he  saw  Deering  come  out  from 
a  different  door  to  that  by  which  Lambert  had  entered. 
He  was  accompanied  by  a  man  in  uniform,  and  walked 


PUK8UIT.  95 

briskly  away,  in  the  same  direction  in  whicli  Glynn  was 
sauntering  ;  but  as  tliey  were  considerably  ahead  of  him, 
it  was  useless  to  attempt  pursuit.  Nor  did  Glynn  par- 
ticularly wish  to  speak  with  Deering.  He  felt  that  for 
some  occult  reason  he  was  Lambert's  enemy,  and  he 
entirely  acquitted  him  of  any  share  in  Elsie's  disappear- 
ance. That  he  should  make  independent  inquiries  was 
natural,  as  Lambert's  treatment  of  him  the  previous  day 
almost  forbid  their  holding  further  intercourse  ;  probably 
the  man  with  him  was  an  official  interpreter.  Glynn'a 
thoughts  were  sufficiently  painful  as  he  stroUed  to  and 
fro.  He  wished  Lambert  would  voluntarily  confide  to 
him  the  secret  of  his  enmity  to  Deering,  He  felt  an  un- 
reasoning conviction  that  the  extraordinary  disappear- 
ance of  Elsie  was  in  some  way  connected  with  it. 

Time  went  slowly,  painfully;  but  at  length  a  sergent  de 
ville  approaching,  saluted  him,  saying,  "Will  monsieur 
give  himself  the  trouble  to  enter?  M.  Le  Chef  wishes  to 
speak  to  him." 

Glynn  followed  readily,  and  found  Claude  alone. 

"  Monsieur  Lambert  awaits  you  in  an  ante-chamber," 
said  the  grave  chef;  "  you  shall  soon  be  at  liberty  to  join 
him.  Meantime  you  will  have  no  objection  to  answer  a 
few  questions."  He  proceeded  to  put  a  few  leading 
queries  as  to  Glynn's  position  and  occupation,  the  origin 
of  his  acquaintance  with  Lambert,  its  renewal,  his  knowl- 
edge of  Deering  and  Vincent,  and  their  connection  with 
father  and  daughter.  The  astute  chef  was  courteous  though 
searching,  and  having  meditated  for  a  moment  or  two, 
said,  "I  should  recommend  your  advising  your  friend 
to  confide  every  circumstance  connected  with  his  daughter 
to  me.  He  is  keeping  something  back,  and  that  something 
nullifies  aU  our  efforts." 

"  I  think  he  must  have  told  you  everything,  especially 
connected  with  his  daughter." 

"  There  is  small  chance  of  success  if  he  does  not." 

"I  suppose  you  have  no  intelligence  as  yet?"  said 
Glynn. 

"  This  is  all  we  have  discovered,"  said  M.  Claude,  throw- 
ing open  the  doors  of  a  large  armoire,  or  clothes-press,  and 
thtre  hung,  in  ghastly  mockery,  the  pretty  white  ball- 
dress  which  had  so  delightfully  become  the  wearer,  its 


$6  AT   BAT. 

bouquets  of  wild  flowers  crushed  and  flattened,  and  a 
long  revolting  stain  of  half-dried  mud  along  one  side  of 
the  creamy  silk. 

"  Good  God  !  "  exclaimed  Glynn,  starting  back  horror- 
struck.     "  Where — where  did  you  find  this  ?  " 

"  One  of  our  men  found  it  near  the  Pont  de  L'Alma 
early  this  morning.  See  !  here  is  where  the  lace  and  knot 
of  ribbon  were  torn  away.  There  is  no  other  mark  of 
violence.  The  intention  evidently  was  to  throw  the  par- 
cel (it  was  tightly  roUed  up)  into  the  Seine  ;  but  it  fell 
short,  and  the  river  was  low.     You  recognize  the  dress  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  now?" 

"  This  proves  nothing,"  said  the  imperturbable  M. 
Claude.  "  The  dress  was  dehberately  thrown  away,  either 
to  direct  attention  on  a  wrong  scent,  or  simply  to  get  rid 
of  an  encumbrance." 

"  Then  you  have  not  advanced  since  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  I  have  found  that  M.  Vincent  is  at  Bor- 
deaux, but  alone." 

"  And  you  have  seen  M.  Deering  ?  "  said  Glynn,  quickly. 

"  Yes,"  returned  M.  Claude,  looking  at  him  for  an  in- 
stant. "  He  came  to  seek  tidings  of  the  missing  young 
lady,  in  whom  he  seems  deeply  interested." 

There  was  a  pause.  Glynn  sought  in  his  soul  for  some 
suggestion  to  keep  the  inscrutable  detective  in  conversa- 
tion. He  could  not  help  a  conviction  that  he  was  in  pos- 
session of  more  information  than  he  cared  to  impart ;  but 
nothing  came  to  him. 

"You  do  not,  then,  believe  that  any  great  crime  has 
been  committed  ?  "  he  faltered. 

"  AH  things  are  possible  ;  but  I  hope  that  before  many 
days  are  over  j^ou  will  hear  from  the  young  lady  herself. 
I  believe  it  is  an  unusually  clever  case  of  elopement.  I 
have  communicated  with  the  English  police  ;  but " — an 
eloquent  shrug — "  they  have  fewer  facilities  than  we.  My 
telegram  yesterday  was  too  late  to  catch  the  Dover  mail- 
boat— not  that  I  think  it  was  of  much  consequence, 
for " 

His  reason  was  never  uttered  ;  a  tap  at  the  door  inter- 
rupted him.  He  rose,  took  a  dispatch  from  the  hands  of 
a  messenger.  Closing  the  door,  he  read  it,  and  then  with 
a  grim  smile  said  ; 


PlTRStllT.  9^ 

"  My  suspicions  are  not  far  wrong.  The  young  lady  is 
safe  and  well  at  Bordeaux — and  not  alone." 

"  What  does  your  employe,  say  ?  "  cried  Glynn,  not  much 
comforted  by  the  announcement. 

"  Read  for  yourself,"  said  M.  Claude,  handing  the  tele- 
gram to  him. 

Glynn  eagerly  scanned  the  lines. 

"  Young  English  or  American  lady  answering  to  descrip- 
tion an-ived  here  last  evening  ;  is  staying  at  '  The  Lion 
d'Or,'  on  the  quay.  Has  been  visited  by  the  captain  of  an 
American  steamer  and  another  man.  Father  must  come 
at  once  and  identify  her,  or  she  may  escape." 

"  Tliis  is  some  mistake,"  said  Glynn,  the  words  dancing 
before  his  eyes.     "  This  cannot  be  Miss  Lambert." 

"  It  is  most  unlikely  that  my  colleague  at  Bordeaux 
should  be  in  error.  He  is  one  of  the  sarewdest  employes 
of  the  suret'e.     At  all  events  we  must  infona  tne  fatiier." 

He  rang,  and  desired  thac  M.  Lambert  should  be  re- 
called. Glynn  was  iiifinitely  touched  hj  the  dulled,  help- 
less look  of  the  once  bright,  alert  Lambert.  He  watched 
him  read  the  telegram,  and  observed  with  surpi-ise  that 
his  face  brightened,  and  an  expression  of  pleasm-e  gleam- 
ed in  his  eyes. 

"  This  is  a  chance,  anyhow,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Of  course 
111  go.     When  is  the  next  train  ?  " 

The  detective  v/atched  him  curiously. 

"  But,  Lambert,"  exclaimed  Glynn  in  English,  "  you 
surely  do  not  believe  this  can  be  your  daughter  ?  You  do 
not  think  that  delicate,  tender  creature  would  fly  from  you 
to  meet  men  of  whom  you  know  nothing  ?  " 

"  Maybe  I  do,"  said  Lambert,  "  and  maybe  I  don't 
Drowning  men  catch  at  straws.     I'll  go,  anyway." 

He  swayed  shghtly  as  he  spoke,  and  caught  Glynn's 
arm. 

"  It  is  more  than  he  can  bear,"  said  M.  Claude,  with  a 
rare  gleam  of  feeling.  "  I  will  telegraph  to  my  colleague 
to  meet  you  at  the  Gare.  The  mail  train  leaves  at  six. 
You  will  be  in  Bordeaux  about  noon  to-morrow.  You 
will,  I  trust,  need  no  further  assistance  from  my  depart- 
ment.    I  wish  you  good-raoming,  gentlemen." 

He  opened  the  door  politely,  and  they  went  forth. 

"Lambert,"  said  Glynn,  as  be  supported  his  friends 
7 


98  AT  BAT. 

unsteady  steps,  "  you  are  not  fit  to  travel  alone.  I  will 
go  with  you." 

"  I'm  better,"  returned  Lambert,  withdrawing  his  arm, 
"  and  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart ;  but 
I'd  rather  go  alone.  If — if — oh!  great  heavens! — She 
mightn't  like  to  see  you,  Glynn.  No,  no,"  with  increasing 
decision,  "  I  would  rather  go  alone,  and  I  will  send  you 
word  what  I  find.  You  have  been  wonderfully  good  to 
me,  and  you  know  what  she  was — is.  Why  do  I  despair? 
If — oh  if,"  with  sudden  fury,  "  I  ever  get  my  grip  on  the 
infernal  villain  that  drove  her  to  this,  he'U  have  seen  the 
last  of  light,  and  go  down  to  darkness  forever.  There, 
I  don't  know  what  I  am  talking  about.  My  head  seems 
all  wrong." 

"  You  had  better  let  me  go  with  you,  Lambert.  Be- 
lieve me,  you  are  not  fit  to  go  alone,  and  you  must  keep 
well,  at  any  rate,  till  you  recover  or  rescue  your  daughter." 

"  Eecover  her !  Ay,  that  I  will,"  standing  stiU  suddenly. 
"  Do  you  think  I'm  not  proof  against  everything  tiU  I  find 
her?  and  then — and  then,  when  she  is  safe,  I  have  done 
my  work,  and  I'll  rest — ay,  rest  well  and  long.  But  I'll 
make  this  journey  alone." 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  gire  up  aU  thoughts  of 
persuading  him.  Then  he  seemed  to  revive,  to  master  his 
terrible  despondency.  Ho  accepted  Glynn's  in^dtation 
to  luncheon,  and  forced  himself  to  take  food  and  wine. 
Then  he  returned  to  his  desolate  home,  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  his  departure  ;  finally  Glynn  saw  him  safely  into 
the  train. 

Tlie  hours  which  succeeded,  how  slowly,  yet  swiftly, 
they  dragged  their  torturing  length !  slowly,  for  the  mo- 
ments as  they  dropped  into  the  abyss  of  the  past  seemed 
deliberately  distilled  from  the  bitterest  ingredients  life 
could  supply  ;  swiftly,  for  every  hour  of  delay  added  to 
the  difficiiity  of  the  search,  on  the  success  of  which  all 
Glynn's  hopes  hung.  He  exhausted  himself  wandering  to 
and  fro  the  Rue  de  L'Evcque,  the  Rue  de  Jerusalem,  even 
the  Morgue,  where  he  would  rather  have  found  the  corpse 
of  her  he  loved  than  know  her  alive  under  such  circima- 
stances  as  the  detective's  telegram  suggested.  But  this 
he  did  not  for  a  moment  believe,  though  through  his  long 
mental  agony  strange  doubts  would  obtrude  themselves — • 


PURSUIT.  99 

more  of  Lambert  than  his  daughter.  He  was  evidently 
concealing  something.  Those  vague  threats  against  some 
unnamed  villain,  what  did  they  indicate  ?  Knowledge  of 
some  possible  and  real  abduction,  or  merely  imaginative 
fury? 

Still,  fast  or  slow,  the  hours  went  by.  Glynn  was  finally 
overcome  with  fatigue  and  sleep,  so  enjoyed  a  few  hours 
of  blessed  obhvion. 

He  woke  with  a  startled  sense  of  wrong-doing  in  having 
forgotten  even  for  a  moment  the  awful  unceiiainty  that 
had  laid  its  curse  upon  him,  and  collecting  his  thoughts, 
remembered  his  surprise  at  not  having  received  a  tele- 
graphic message  from  Lambert.  Time,  he  might  not  have 
succeeded  at  once  iu  seeing  his  supposed  daughter. 

The  expected  communication  came,  however,  before  he 
sallied  forth  to  renew  the  restless  round  of  j'esterday 

"  Officer  mistaken.  A  fresh  track.  Am  off  to  Marseilles 
Will  write." 

In  a  sense  this  was  a  relief  ;  but  Marseilles  ?  that 
seemed  the  most  unlikely  place  to  find  the  object  of  their 
search.  However,  all  places  were  unlikely.  Lambert  had 
better  keep  at  hand  in  Paris.  He  would  write  and  beg* 
him  to  return. 

Glynn  had  taken  his  hat  and  was  at  the  door,  when 
some*^  one  knocked,  and  Deering  entered,  well-dressed, 
cool,  distinguished-looking,  as  ever,  but  with  a  somewhat 
haggard  aspect,  and  a  set,  sinister  expression  about  his 
mouth. 

•'  I  suppose  you  have  heard  nothing  fresh  ?  no  discovery 
of  any  clue  to  the  whereabouts  of  Lambert's  daughter  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Nothing.  Her  father  went  down  to  Bordeaux  yester- 
day at  the  suggestion  of  M.  Claude  to  identify  a  girl  de- 
scribed as  resembling  Miss  Lambert.  I  have  just  had  this 
telegi'am  from  him." 

"  Ha !  "  said  Deering,  on  reading  it,  "  I  doubt  if  Lam- 
bert will  afford  M.  Claude  much  assistance.  I  fancy  some 
of  his  raffish  associates  have  cai-ried  off  the  yomig  lady, 
and  he  is  too  much  in  their  power  to  be  very  earnest 
about  discovering  or  pmiishing  them." 

"  Have  you  suggested  this  idea  to  the  chef  de  la  surete  f  " 
asked  Glynn  coldly. 


100  ^AT  BAT. 

"  Why  should  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Because  he  talked  to  me  of  Lambert's  concealments 
as  mihtating  against  the  success  of  the  search,  just  after 
you  left  him." 

Deering's  brows  met  in  a  fierce,  quick  frown,  and  then 
resumed  their  ordinary  haughty  composure.  "  Yes  ;  I 
thought  it  well  to  warn  him.  I  am  even  now  endeavoring 
to  sift  a  curious  story  about  Lambert ;  it  may  not  be  true, 
but  I  am  a  good  deal  concerned  at  this  disappearance  of 
his  daughter,  and,  I  think,  so  are  you.  She  is  a  fascin- 
ating morsel  of  female  flesh,  and  it  is  maddening  to  see 
the  prize  you  had  marked  for  your  own  carried  off  under 
your  very  eyes.  Really  there  is  no  line  deep  enough  to 
fathom  a  woman." 

"  I  never  marked  Miss  Lambert  as  my  own,"  said  Glynn 
angrily.  "  I  object  to  your  mode  of  mentioning  her.  As 
to  Lambert,  no  one  can  doubt  the  unfortunate  man's 
despair  and  distress.  I  do  not  beheve  that  Miss  Lambert 
left  her  home  willingly,  unless  decoyed  by  false  pre- 
tences." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know 
where  she  is.  I  believe  she  is  in  England ;  she  was 
brought  up  there,  I  believe.  WeU,  I  cross  to-night,  and 
vnll  set  the  police  at  work  so  soon  as  I  get  to  London. 
Shall  you  be  much  longer  here  ?  " 

"  My  movements  are  uncertain,"  returned  Glynn  stiffly. 

"  You'U  wait  and  assist  the  bereaved  father,  I  presume," 
said  Deering,  with  an  unpleasant  smile.  "  By  the  way, 
Vincent  has  returned,  and  is  awfvdly  cut  up  about  the 
affair.  Vincent  was,  I  fancy,  a  suitor  ;  might  have  been 
a  decent  match  for  Miss  Lambert ;  he  is  a  shrewd  fellow. 
But  you  are  in  a  hurry,  I  wiU  not  detain  you." 

He  bid  Glynn  "  good-morning  "  with  courteous  friend- 
liness, and  left  him  half-maddened  with  torturing  waves 
of  doubt,  which  seemed  rising  on  aU  sides. 

Another  long  miserable  day,  its  only  solace  a  visit  to 
poor  Madame  Weber  and  Celestine,  who  talked  of  the 
"  dear  lost  child  "  with  unbounded  panegyric  and  floods 
of  tears. 

No  letter  from  Lambert,  and  failure  in  an  attempt  to 
aee  the  chef  de  la  S'lirele,  completed  the  day's  trials. 

The  fourth  morning  brought  Lambert's  promised  letter. 


pUKsmr.  lOl 

The  girl  supposed  to  resemble  Elsie  was  a  rouged  modeste, 
with  dyed  hair,  and  rather  good  blue  eyes,  the  only  real 
point  of  resemblance.  "  The  reasons  for  his  expedition  to 
Marseilles  were  too  numerous  for  a  letter,"  Lambert  wrote. 
"  He  had  some  faint  hopes  of  success,  and  would  tell  all 
when  he  returned,  if  Glynn  was  still  in  Paris."  Iff  how 
could  he  tear  himself  away  tiU  this  cruel  mystery  was 
cleared  up  ? 

In  the  porter's  lodge,  as  he  passed  out,  Glynn  found  a 
police  agent  with  a  message — Could  he  come  soon  to  the 
Bureau  de  la  sdrete  ?  M.  le  Chef  wished  to  speak  with 
him. 

Glynn's  reply  was  to  hail  a  fiacre,  and  making  the  agent 
come  with  him,  drove  at  once  to  the  bureau. 

"  So  the  commissaire  at  Bordeaux  was  mistaken,"  said  M. 
Claude.  "  That  is  the  difficulty  of  descriptions,  even  photo- 
graphs sometimes  deceive.  I  am  having  several  copies 
made  of  mademoiselle's,  and  shall  send  them  to  the  prin- 
cipal towns."  He  paused,  and  looking  at  Glynn,  said,  "I 
do  not  approve  this  demarche  to  MarseUles  ;  M.  Lambeii; 
should  have  confided  his  reasons  to  us.  He  cannot  work 
independently  ;  but  he  will  malfe  nothing  by  his  journey. 
"Were  he  here — there  is  a  fresh  and  more  hopeful  report 
from  Bruges  this  morning." 

"  And  it  is  ?  "  exclaimed  Glynn,  leaning  forward  in  his 
chair,  quivering  with  anticipation. 

"  Two  ladies,  one  young,  fair,  blue-eyed  and  English  ; 
the  other  elderly,  German  or  Kussian,  weU-dressed  and 
well-bred,  arrived  the  day  before  yesterday  at  the  Hotel 
des  Trois  Couronnes.  They  keep  most  retired,  and  only 
go  out  in  a  covered  carriage,  to  the  convent  of  the  Beguines. 
The  younger  lady  weeps  a  good  deal,  and  often  mentions 
the  word  '  father '  with  emotion.  They  have  told  their 
landlord  that  they  await  the  coming  of  the  young  lady's 
father." 

"  This  sounds  more  promising,"  cried  Glynn,  all  eager 
attention. 

"  Were  M,  Lambert  here  he  might  take  the  journey  to 
Bruges,  and  identify  them.  Probably  he  is  the  father 
they  expect." 

"  I  wish  he  were  here,  but,  in  his  absence,  /  will  under- 
take the  journey  ;  I  can  identify  Miss  Lambert." 


102  AT  BAT. 

"Do  you  think  her  father  will  thank  you?  ' 

"  I  do.  Can  you  doubt  his  agonized  impatience  until  he 
can  get  tidings  of  his  daughter  ?  " 

"No  ;  but  there  is  something  in  the  affair  1  cannot 
quite  fathom." 

There  was  a  pause.  "  I  suppose,"  resumed  Glynn,  "  there 
is  no  objection  to  my  visiting  the  ladies  your  agent  de- 
scribes?" 

"  None  ;  in  the  absence  of  the  father." 

"  Then  I  shall  start  at  once.  Give  me  a  line  of  intro- 
duction to  your  representative.  I  shall  telegraj)h  to  you 
the  result  of  my  journey.  No  doubt  you  will  see  M. 
Lambert  back  to-morrow." 

M.  Claude  wi'ote  the  desired  letter,  and  armed  with  it, 
Glynn  left  the  bureau. 

A  rapid  journey  followed,  a  journey  such  as  men  make 
in  bad  dreams,  with  a  curious  sense  of  acting  under 
some  hideous  malignant  influence,  a  depressing  amticipa- 
tion  of  coming  failure.  Often  in  after-life  the  memory  of 
that  journey  came  back  as  the  most  painful  experience  of 
all  he  had  ever  known  for  years — it  haunted  him  with 
thrills  of  horror.  Little  he  heeded  the  quaint  aspects  of 
the  old  mediaeval  town,  though  the  picture  of  the  streets 
through  which  he  was  conducted  to  the  Hotel  des  Trois 
Couronnes  remained  forever  stamped  upon  his  memory. 

His  anticipations  were  fulfilled.  The  ladies  were  both 
total  strangers  to  him ;  he  had  therefore  nothing  for  it 
but  to  apologize  and  retire. 

Back  to  Paris,  where  Lambert  had  not  yet  returned, 
and  M.  Claude  received  him  with  cold  displeasure.  M. 
Claude  was  growing  impatient  at  the  unwonted  failure  of 
his  emissaries.  It  was  now  six  days  since  the  disappeai-- 
ance  of  Miss  Lambert,  and  not  the  faintest  clue  had  been 
found  by  which  to  trace  her. 

The  keen-eyed  chef  de  la  surde  threw  himself  into  the 
pursuit  with  aU  the  energy  ll  his  nature,  all  the  profes- 
sional pride  that  a  high  re]  fttation  could  inspii-e.  There 
was  not  a  town  of  any  importance  in  Europe  where  his 
researches  did  not  penetrate,  and  yet  the  days  rolled  on, 
and  not  a  trace  was  to  be  found  of  the  missing  girl.  For 
some  reasons  unknown  very  little  was  said  of  the  occur- 
rence in  the  newspapers.     The  pohce,  always  powerful  in 


pUESTjrr.  103 

France,  were  especially  potent  in  the  later  days  of  the 
Empire.  One  or  two  journals  mentioned  the  mysterious 
disappeai'ance  of  a  young  lady,  and  the  matter  was 
dropped. 

To  Glynn  the  terrible  darkness,  which  seemed  closing 
in  deeper  and  deeper  with  each  succeeding  day  over  the 
fate  of  the  fair  girl  he  had  learned  to  love  so  passion- 
ately, was  appalling.  He  chafed  against  his  own  hoj^e- 
lessness,  he  exliausted  himself  in  conjectures  and  restless 
going  to  and  fro. 

When  Lambert  came  back  from  his  fruitless  journey  to 
Marseilles,  he  seemed  sunk  in  a  strange,  sullen  apathy, 
nor  did  he  accept  Glynn's  well-meant  efforts  to  comfort 
and  sustain  him  with  cordiality.  He  declared  his  inten- 
tion of  remaining  in  Paris  as  the  place  where  the  earUest 
tidings  of  his  missing  daughter  were  most  likely  to  reach 
him.  He  had  already  given  notice  of  his  intention  to 
leave  his  apartments,  and  now  dismissed  Madame  Weber 
and  the  bonrie. 

"  I  do  not  know  where  I  may  have  to  go,  or  what  I  may 
have  to  do,"  he  said  to  Glynn.  "  I'll  hang  on  here  till  my 
time  is  up,  and  then  I'll  take  a  room  somewhere  and  just 
wait.  You  are  very  good,  Glynn  ;  you  could  have  done 
no  more  if  you  had  been  my  poor  darling's  affianced 
lover.  I  Httle  knew  you  were  a  rich  man,  and  partner  in 
a  great  firm,  when  I  offered  you  her  poor  little  portion." 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,"  said  Glynn,  with  inexpressible 
emotion  ;  "  but  treat  me  as  a  trusted  friend.  Tell  me  what 
conjectures  you  have  formed  as  to  her  fate." 

"I  believe  she  is  dead,"  said  Lambert  in  a  broken 
voice,  and  covering  his  face.  "  Had  she  been  in  hf e  she 
would  have  managed  to  communicate  with  me.  Now  I 
have  nothing  left  to  live  for  but  revenge." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  where  to  direct  your  vengeance  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  answer  yes  or  no  yet,  though  if  I'd  answer 
any  one  it  would  be  you,  Glynn." 

"  That  means  '  Yes,' "  returned  Glynn. 

Lambert  did  not  reply.  He  seemed  sunk  in  gloomy, 
hard  resignation  to  a  detested  destiny.  "  You  shouldn't 
wait  on  here,  Ghoin,"  he  resumed,  after  a  minute's  si- 
lence. "  You  can  do  no  good, — as  they  didn't  find  her 
within  the  first  week  it  will  just  be  a  waiting  race.     Well 


104  AT  BAT. 

hit  on  thft  truth  just  by  accident,  that  will  be  the  vraj  of 
it." 

But  Glynn  could  not  tear  himself  from  Paris.  How 
often  he  recalled  the  circumstances  under  which  he  had 
uttered  these  words  to  Elsie  ;  they  were  almost  the  last 
he  had  spoken  to  her.  He  could  almost  hear  the  soft, 
tremulous  tones  in  which  she  promised  to  listen  to  his 
reasons  for  not  being  able  to  tear  himself  away.  No,  it 
was  impossible  that  she  could  have  had  the  smallest  an- 
ticipation of  the  dreadful  catastrophe  which  awaited  her. 
Yet  her  very  last  words — her  last  look  haunted  him.  The 
questioning,  wondering  glance,  the  half -whisper — "you 
puzzle  me ! " 

Twice  during  this  miserable  period  of  indecision  Glynn 
encountered  Vincent, — once  on  the  stair  leading  to  Lam- 
bert's abode,  and  once  in  the  Boulevards. 

In  the  first  instance  he  greeted  Glynn  with  the  frankest 
expression  of  sorrow  and  sympathy  for  the  great  misfor- 
tune which  had  befallen  Lambert,  mentioning  his  own 
deep  grief,  and  his  compassionate  forgiveness  of  Lambert's 
injurious  accusations  against  himself. 

Glynn  found  Lambert  in  a  state  of  f imous  excitement 
after  this  visit,  and  uttering  violent  half-unintelligible 
threats  against  Vincent. 

On  their  second  meeting  Glynn  tried  to  pass  him,  but 
in  vain,  and  was  obliged  to  listen  to  a  string  of  sugges- 
tions and  conjectures  respecting  the  supposed  fugitive 
which  nearly  drove  him  to  throttle  his  interlocutor  and 
fling  him  into  the  street  under  the  hoofs  of  the  passing 
horses,  especially  as  he  felt  that  Vincent's  small,  pene- 
trating, watchful  eyes  were  intently,  searchingly  fixed  on 
his  face  while  he  spoke. 

At  length  letters  from  his  partners  obliged  him  to  quit 
the  scene  of  so  much  suffering  and  disaster. 

It  was  with  the  deepest  reluctance  that  Glynn  bid  Lam- 
bert good-bye.  The  unhappy  father  still  wore  the  same 
aspect  of  helplessness,  of  sullen  submission  to  the  irre- 
sistible. He  scarcely  heeded  Glynn's  announcement  of 
his  immediate  departure,  and  merely  answered  his  ardent 
request  for  the  earliest  information  respecting  any  crumbs 
of  intelligence  in  the  affirmative.  He  put  Glynn's  card  in 
his  pocket-book  mechanically.     Yet  he  wrung  his  hand 


PUKSUIT.  105 

hard  at  parting,  and  bid  God  bless  him,  brokenly — ^yet 
heartily. 

Glynn,  not  satisfied  with  Lambert's  promise,  obtained 
an  interview  with  M.  Claude,  who  was  even  more  curt  and 
immovable  than  ever.  He,  however,  condescended  to 
promise  that  he  would  not  fail  to  let  him  know  should  any 
traces  of  the  missing  girl  be  foimd. 

Glynn  was  not  perhaps  fuUy  aware  of  the  withering 
change  which  the  torture  of  the  last  three  weeks  had 
wrought  in  him  until  he  attempted  to  resume  the  routine 
of  his  former  life.  The  color  and  flavor  seemed  to  have 
been  extracted  from  existence,  nothing  was  left  worth 
hoping  for,  working  for,  living  for,  and  the  heads  of  his 
firm  exclaimed  at  his  haggard,  worn  aspect. 

The  second  day  after  he  had  resumed  his  attendance  at 
the  office  he  found  himself  too  faint  and  dizzy  to  continue 
the  writing  on  which  he  was  engaged.  His  head  ached 
intensely,  his  pulses  throbbed.  He  rang,  and  began  to 
explain  to  the  clerk  who  answered  his  summons  that  he 
felt  so  iU  he  must  return  home  ;  but  before  he  could 
finish  his  sentence  he  feU  heavily  at  the  feet  of  his 
startled  hearer.  He  was  conveyed  carefully  to  his  own 
residence,  which  he  did  not  leave  for  many  weeks, — not 
tiU  he  had  been  brought  to  the  verge  of  the  grave  by  a 
fierce  brain-fever. 


CHAPTEE    VII. 

•WlLL-o'-THE-WISP. 

A  NEW  year  was  opening  on  the  just  and  the  unjust — 
the  fortvinate  and  the  unfortunate.  Lady  Gethin  had 
arrived  in  toAvn  after  a  prolonged.  Christmas  visit  to  some 
attentive  relatives  in  one  of  the  midland  counties. 

She  was  always  pleased  to  be  at  home ;  she  liked  to 
exercise  a  friendly  hospitahty,  and  she  was  by  no  means 
afraid  of  a  lonely  evening,  of  which  she  never  had  too 
many. 

It  was  the  day  after  her  return.  Night  had  closed  in  ; 
her  dainty  dinner  was  over,  and  she  was  estabhshed  in 
her  favorite  chair  beside  a  blight  wood  and  coal  fire  in 
the  smaller  and  cosier  of  her  two  drawing-rooms,  which 
was  hgh^ed  only  by  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire  and  a 
shaded  reading-lamp,  by  which  she  was  perusing  a  new 
novel.  She  had  laid  down  the  book  and  was  thinking, 
with  an  unusually  softened  expression  on  her  strong  face, 
of  her  favorite,  Hugh  Glynn.  She  had  been  intensely 
anxious  about  him  during  his  severe  illness.  She  had 
constantly  visited  his  sick-room,  and  satisfied  herself  that 
nurses  and  servants  were  doing  their  duty.  When  Kis  life 
was  despaired  of,  she  was  grimly  stiQ,  silent,  and  endur- 
ing, but  she  knew  that  all  the  woman  in  her  somewhat 
mascuhne  nature  had  gone  out,  in  maternal  affection,  to 
her  husband's  nephew. 

When  he  was  slowly  struggUng  back  to  life  and  strength 
she  accompanied  him  to  a  south  coast  bathing-place,  and 
gave  him  the  great  benefit  of  her  companionship,  for  she 
knew  how  to  be  sympathetically  silent,  as  well  as  congeni- 
ally talkative.  In  this  prolonged  Ute-a-tete  Glynn  grew 
sincerely  and  gratefully  attached  to  the  outspoken  free- 
thinking  old  woman,  whose  frank  kindness  was  never 
oppressive,  and  whose  uncompromising  sincerity  might 
^nvince  the  hardest  sceptic  of  its  reaUty. 
y06) 


will-o'-the-wisp.  107 

Attachment  brought  confidence,  and  before  they  parted 
Hugh  Glynn  had  told  her  the  strange  history  of  his  sud- 
den love  for  Elsie  Lambert,  of  the  hold  it  had  taken  of 
him  in  spite  of  reason,  prudence,  worldly  wisdom — every 
motive  that  ought  to  guide  a  man  of  his  maturity  and 
experience.  He  even  confessed  to  the  weakness  of  regret- 
ting he  had  rejected  Lambert's  proposal  of  marriage  with 
his  daughter. 

In  the  story  of  Elsie's  disappearance,  Lady  Gethin  was 
profoundly  interested,  though,  to  Glynn's  disappointment 
and  indignation,  she  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  her  belief 
that  the  young  lady  eloped  voluntarily,  and  had  probably 
since  informed  her  father  of  her  whereabouts — a  fact 
which  he  might  think  it  wiser  not  to  divulge.  She  further 
declared  that  although  she  did  not  think  the  worse  of 
Glynn  for  his  infatuation,  she  thought  he  had  had  a  great 
escape,  and  beheved  he  would  come  to  think  so  himself 
when  he  had  recovered  his  health  and  resumed  the  ordi- 
nary routine  of  his  hfe. 

Reviewing  these  conversations  Lady  Gethin  sat  forget- 
ful of  her  book,  when  the  object  of  her  thoughts  was 
announced. 

"Why  didn't  you  come  to  dinner?"  she  exclaimed, 
holding  out  her  hand. 

"  Because  I  have  been  dining  earlier  than  usual  at  the 
house  of  a  cousin  of  mine  in  the  suburbs,  where  I  have 
been  officiating  as  god-father  to  his  first-bom  son." 

"  A  very  patriarchal  proceeding.  Who*  is  this  cousin — 
do  I  not  know  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  not ;  he  is  a  cousin  on  my  mother's  side,  and 
has  a  cure  of  souls  at  Clapham." 

"  Well,  Hugh,  and  how  are  you  ?  You  look  better  and 
stronger." 

"  I  am  !  I  have  turned  the  corner,  and  am  beginning  to 
pull  mechanically  against  the  collar  once  more." 

Lady  Gethin  looked  earnestly  at  him.  He  seemed  taller 
than  ever — gaunt  and  bony.  His  dark  face  was  very 
colorless,  his  eyes  sunken  ;  yet  his  attitude  and  air  hac' 
less  of  lassitude  than  when  they  had  parted  last. 

"  You  have  been  across  the  Channel  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  ran  over  to  Paris  for  a  little  change,  just  before 
Christmas.    Paais  draws  me  like  a  magnet." 


108  AT   BAY. 

"  A.  magnetism  you  ought  to  resist.  How  is  the  beauti- 
ful city?" 

"  Beautiful  as  ever ;  but  there  is  mischief  in  the  air. 
However,  I  am  no  prophet.  I  wandered  about  the  old 
scenes  hke  a  troubled  ghost,  and  I  saw  Lambert." 

"  Indeed !  I  wish,  Hugh,  you  would  break  away  from 
aU  the  painful  associations  with  that  man,  you  can  do  him 
no  good." 

"  True  ;  but  I  have  the  most  profound  pity  for  him,  all 
the  more  that  he  seems  by  no  means  glad  to  see  me.  I 
fancy  his  temble  misfortune  has  affected  his  brain.  He 
is  sullen,  and  averse  to  speak  of  anything  that  leads  up  to 
the  subject  of  his  lost  daughter,  and  yet  he  looks  in  siur- 
prisingly  good  health." 

"  He  has  not  had  a  brain  fever ! "  said  Lady  Gethin, 
significantly.  "  I  suppose  no  trace  whatever  has  been  dis- 
covered V  " 

"  Not  the  faintest.  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  inter- 
view with  M.  Claude,  who  reluctantly  admitted  that  the 
French  pohce  have  rarely  been  so  baffled." 

"  It  is  a  most  extraordinary  case,"  said  Lady  Gethin, 
and  then  hastened  to  change  the  subject.  "I  have  had 
rather  a  pleasant  time  of  it  at  the  Kingsfords',  I  went 
down  the  day  before  Christmas  and  only  returned  yester- 
day. The  Deerings  put  up  there  for  two  nights  on  their 
way  to  Lord  Arthur  Saville's.  Lady  Frances  was  look- 
ing a  little  more  alive ;  and  really  Deering  can  be  very 
agreeable." 

"  He  is,  I  suspect,  a  tremendously  white-washed 
sepulchre." 

"  I  cannot  understand  your  suspicions  of  Deering,"  re- 
turned Lady  Gethin  ;  "  as  to  his  being  mixed  up  mth  the 
Lambert  affair,  it  is  mere  nonsense.  What  on  earth  could 
he  have  to  do  with  such  a  man  as  you  describe  Lambeii;  ? 
He  might  have  met  him  in  a  train,  or  on  a  steamboat,  or 
a  race-course,  but  it  is  impossible  he  could  have  known 
much  of  him." 

"  He  did,  however,  I  am  certain,"  said  Glynn,  slowly 
and  thoughtfully  ;  "  and  you  would  agree  with  me  had 
you  seen  them  together.  There  was  deadly  enmity  as 
well  as  acquaintanceship  between  them." 

"  Well,  perhaps  so,"  she  returned.     "  WiU  you  have  a 


•will-o'-the-wisp.  109 

cup  of  ooffee,  Hugh  ?  It  will  rouse  you,  you  rook  sleepy 
and  distrait." 

"  Thank  you  ;  a  cup  of  your  coffee  will  do  me  good." 
Lady  Gethiu  rang  and  ordered  some  to  be  brought, 
talking  cheerfully  on  a  variety  of  topics.  But  Glynn's 
attention  wandered  while  he  sipped  the  refreshing  bever- 
age, and  as  he  put  down  his  cup  Lady  Gethin  exclaimed, 
"I  don't  think  you  have  heard  a  word  I  have  been 
saying ! " 

"Yes,"  he  exclaimed,  starting  from  his  thoughts,  "I 
have  heard,  but,  I  confess,  not  taken  in  the  sense  of  what 
you  have  been  saying.  I  am,  perhaps  foohshly,  excited 
by  an  incident  which  occurred  to-day,  and  as  you  are 
tolerably  acquainted  with  all  my  weakness  you  may  as 
well  hear  this  instance  too.  I  was,  as  I  told  you,  at  Clap- 
ham  to-day  ;  after  the  christening  of  my  Httle  godson 
we  returned  to  luncheon  at  Heathcote's — at  my  cousin's 
house,  and  when  the  other  guests  had  left  he  asked  me  to 
smoke  a  cigar  with  him  in  the  garden.  As  we  talked  and 
walked  up  and  down  beside  a  railing  and  hedge  of  holly, 
which  separates  Heathcote's  garden  from  the  next,  I 
heard  some  one  speaking  at  the  other  side,  and  as  I  list- 
ened I  could  have  sworn  that  the  voice  was  Elsie  Lam- 
bert's. It  was  soft  and  low,  yet  wonderfully  distinct ; 
then  a  highly-pitched  woman's  voice  declared  in  French 
that  she  feared  some  task  would  be  difficult.  Again  the 
voice  that  made  my  heart  stand  still  said,  *  Difficult,  but  not 
insurmountable  ;  kindness  and  steadiness  will  overcome 

so  much  ;  I  would  trust  them  too '     Then  I  ceased  to 

catch  the  words,  though  the  well-known  tones  came  to 
me  again,  as  the  speakers  evidently  turned  away.  Great 
heavens !  I  hear  it  still,  it  was  Elsie's  voice !  I  lost  my 
head  for  a  moment ;  I  rushed  to  the  railing,  and  thrust- 
ing my  arms  between  them,  tried  to  tear  away  some  of 
the  branches  to  look  through.  My  cousin  thought  I  had 
lost  my  senses,  and  begged  for  an  explanation.  I  told 
him  I  felt  certain  that  a  lady  I  had  been  seeking  in  every 
direction  was  at  the  other  side  of  the  hedge.  He  said 
the  adjoining  grounds  belonged  to  a  ladies'  school,  and  I 
asked  him  to  accompany  me  to  the  house,  and  back  me 
lip  in  my  inquiries,  as  he  was  known  to  the  owner  and 
tne  teachers.    At  last  he  consented.     The  parleying  occu- 


110  AT  BAT. 

pied  some  time,  then  we  had  to  walk  round  by  a  road 
which  ran  the  length  of  the  two  gardens,  to  turn  again 
on  reaching  the  common,  and  go  a  little  way  back  to  the 
gates  of  MontpeUier  House  ;  altogether  twenty  minutes 
must  have  elapsed  from  the  time  I  first  heard  the  voico 
before  I  rang  the  bell  at  Mrs.  Storrer's.  As  we  ap- 
proached a  cab  was  driving  away.  On  asking  for  the 
head  of  the  estabhshment,  we  were  informed  that  no  one 
was  at  home  but  the  head  governess  and  the  French 
teacher.  Heathcote  sent  up  his  card,  and  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  speak  to  one  or  both  of  the  ladies." 

"  "Well,"  ejaculated  Lady  Gethin,  "  what  did  you  find  ?  " 

"  After  a  Httle  delay  we  were  ushered  up  staii-s  and  were 
received  by  a  lady,  who  recognized  Heathcote.  He  left 
me  to  explain  myself,  which  I  did  as  weU  as  I  could, 
though  it  was  not  easy." 

"  '  You  heard  a  voice  you  recognized  speaking  in  our 
grounds,'  repeated  the  lady  ;  *  it  must  have  been  either 
Mademoiselle  Laroche,  or  Mademoiselle  Moppert.  They 
were  in  the  grounds  just  now.' 

" '  May  I  see  these  ladies  ? ' 

" '  Mademoiselle  Moppei*t, — yes  ;  but  Mademoiselle  La- 
roche has  just  driven  away.  Mademoiselle  Moppert  has 
come  to  replace  her  as  French  governess.'  I  confess  I 
lost  hope  as  she  spoke,  still  I  begged  for  an  intei"view  with 
the  incoming  teacher,  and  a  servant  was  sent  to  request 
her  presence.  A  glance  at  her  was  enough.  She  was  a 
short,  stout,  elderly  young  lady,  with  piercing  black  eyes 
and  distinct  moustaches.  I  had  to  muster  my  best  French 
and  apologize  elaborate^.  Then  I  begged  for  some  in- 
formation touching  Mademoiselle  Laroche.  Was  she 
French  ?  *  Yes,  undoubtedly, — from  Picardy.'  *  Was  she 
tall,  or  short  ?  slight,  or  stout  ? '  *  She  was,'  the  French 
governess  said,  '  about  her  height,  and  a  little,  yes,  a  very 
Httle  thinner.'  The  Englishwoman  added  that  she  did 
not  look  in  good  health.  *  Did  she  sing  ? '  I  asked.  No, 
she  had  never  sang  or  plaj'ed  while  in  Mrs.  Storrer's  estab- 
lishment. How  long  had  she  been  there  ?  About  seven 
months.  She  bad  been  engaged  in  May  last,  but  did  not 
come  tiU  the  middle  of  June.  Where  had  she  gone  ?  It 
was  understood  she  had  made  an  engagement  to  go  to 
India,  but  she  was  extremely  reserved.    No  one  knew 


WILL-o'-THE-WISPr  111 

mucli  about  her  except  Mrs.  Storrer,  who  was  spending 
the  hoHdays  with  a  friend  at  Cheltenham.  This  was  all  I 
could  extract.  Heathcote  was  desperately  put  out  by  my 
eccentric  proceedings.  I  was  obHged  to  return  with  him 
and  to  give  some  explanation  of  my  conduct.  Then  I  went 
to  the  cab-stand,  and  found  out  the  number  of  the  cab  ; 
and  to  the  pohce-station,  and  commissioned  a  constable 
to  ascertain  where  the  cab  had  taken  Mademoiselle  La- 
roche." 

"I  think  your  time  and  trouble  have  been  thrown 
away,"  said  Lady  Gethin.  "A  fancied  resemblance  to 
Miss  Lambert's  voice  was  but  shallow  ground  to  build 
any  hopes  upon." 

"It  was  not  fancied,"  said  Glynn,  leaning  back  and 
looking  straight  before  him  vrith  fixed,  dreamy  eyes.  "  The 
tones  struck  my  ear,  my  heart,  with  instantaneous  recog- 
nition. I  cannot  beheve  that  any  two  people  could  si^eat 
so  much  aHke.  I  must  say  the  description  doesn't  tally, 
nor  is  it  possible  to  account  for  her  being  in  a  ladies' 
school  in  England  ;  stHl,  that  voice ! " 

"  My  dear  Hugh,  your  imagination  is  so  saturated  with 
the  tragic  ideas  you  associate  with  that  unhappy  girl's 
flight — I  mean  her  disappearance,"  for  GljTin  turned 
sharply  towards  her,  "  that  jou  can  hardly  trust  your  own 
impressions.  I  wish  j'ou  would  put  the  affair  out  of  your 
head.  Yon  were  quite  right  to  help  the  poor  father  as 
much  as  you  could ;  but  now — ^let  this  chapter  of  yom' 
life  be  closed,  and  begin  afresh." 

"  Excellent  advice,  but  useless  to  me.    I  can  not  forget !  " 

"  Is  it  possible  that  on  so  short  an  acquaintance  you 
were  so  severely  hit  ?  " 

"Ay,  in  the  first  twenty-four  hours  of  our  acquaintance 
she  touched  my  heart  as  no  other  woman  ever  did,  and 
every  subsequent  interview  added  to  her  power.  There 
was  a  sweet  gravity  about  her  -which  would  be  as  charming 
in  her  white-haired  age  as  in  her  fair  youth !  And  yet  so 
miserably  faithless  is  this  human  nature  of  ours,  there  are 
moments  when  doubt  plunges  its  jagged  darts  into  me  ; — 
and  for  a  hideous  moment  I  think  it  possible  she  may 
have  gone  willingly  with  some  unknown  lover,  but  at  any 
suggestion  of  the  kind  from  another  the  doubt  vanishes. 
It  only  gathers  at  rare  intervals  when  I  brood  alone  and 


112  AT  BAY. 

grow  morbid.  In  my  saner  moments  I  never  doubt 
ber  ;  but  the  horror  of  the  thing! — nothing  diminishea 
that ! " 

He  staiiied  up  and  began  to  pace  the  room.  The 
anguish  of  liis  voice  touched  Lady  Gethin,  in  spite  of  her 
conviction  that  he  was  weakly  credulous. 

"It  is  a  terrible  business  altogether.  Wbat  do  you 
think  of  doing  now  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  down  by  an  early  train  to  Cheltenham  to- 
morrow and  see  this  Mrs.  Storrer.  My  future  move- 
ments wUl  depend  on  what  I  gather  from  her." 

"  Shall  you  write  to  the  father  ?  " 

"Not  unless  I  have  something  definite  to  report.  It 
would  be  cruel  to  rouse  him  out  of  his  apathy  by  a  gleam 
of  false  hope." 

"  You  are  a  most  imlucky  f eUow,  Hugh  ;  your  life  is 
quite  spoilt  by  this  entanglement." 

"  It  is  my  fate,"  said  Glynn.  He  rested  his  elbow  on 
the  mantelpiece  and  his  head  on  his  hand. 

"You  wiU  return  to-morrow  night,  I  suppose?"  said 
Lady  Gethin. 

"  Most  probably.  I  don't  fancy  I  shall  get  any  intelli- 
gence that  will  send  me  further  afield." 

"You  must  come  and  teU  me  your  news  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"  Of  course  I  shall,  gladly." 

"  Then  dine  with  me  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  shall 
not  ask  any  one  to  break  our  soUtude  d.  deux."" 

"  Thank  you.  It  is  an  infinite  comfort  to  talk  to  you, 
though  I  know  very  weU  you  are  sceptical  on  some  points 
where  I  cling  to  belief." 

After  some  more  conversation  they  parted,  and  Glynn, 
disturbed,  but  scarcely  hopeful,  went  home  to  snatch  what 
rejjose  he  could  before  his  early  start  next  day. 

While  Glynn  was  making  his  way  to  Mrs.  Storrer's  tem- 
porary abode  through  muddy  streets  and  a  chilling  shower 
of  sleet,  Deering  sat  over  a  glowing  fire  in  the  particular 
apartment  occupied  by  him  in  liis  town  house.  He  was 
in  London  for  a  few  days  on  his  way  to  visit  a  sporting 
friend  in  Leicestershire,  and  was  utilizing  the  time  by  an 
interview  with  his  soHcitor,  who  had  ah-eady  risen  to  take 


WILL.0».THE-WI8P.  113 

leave,  wlien  Deering's  valet  entered  and  handed  a  card  to 
his  master,  who,  glancing  at  it  with  a  frown,  said  : 

"  Ask  him  to  sit  do^vn  ;  I  will  see  him  presently,"  and 
he  continued  the  conversation  with  liis  legal  adviser, 
though  his  eyes  wandered  more  than  once  to  the  card 
which  lay  beside  him. 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone,  Deering  rang  and  desired  that 
the  gentleman  who  was  waiting  should  be  sliown  up.  In 
anotlier  moment  the  door  closed  on  Vincent,  who  was 
magnificent  in  a  grand  overcoat,  with  a  sable  coUar  and 
cuffs,  and  a  pair  of  sealskin  gloves.  His  finery,  however, 
was  no  stay  to  his  self-esteem,  for  his  light-colored,  hatch- 
ety  face  had  an  uneasy,  crestfaUen  expression, 

"  Well,"  said  Deering,  without  further  salutation,  "  have 
you  any  news?     There — sit  down." 

"  Yes,  I  have  news  ;  not  very  satisfactory  news,"  said 
Vincent  in  his  nasal,  drawling  tones.     "  He's  off ! " 

"  Lambert !     And  to  America  ?  "  cried  Deering. 

The  other  nodded.  "  I  tracked  Imn  myself,  saw  him 
on  board  the  New  York  steamer,  and  saw  her  steam  away 
down  the  Mersey." 

"  Then  he  sailed  from  Liverpool  ?  What  was  the  mean- 
ing of  that?" 

"  Can't  tell.  I  think  you  are  wrong  in  your  conjectures. 
I  don't  think  he  knows  any  more  about  his  daughter  than 
we  do." 

"  His  start  for  America  proves  nothing." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  for  over  seven  months  he  has  been 
watched  night  and  day,  as  you  know,  and  not  a  trace  of 
any  communication  with  any  one  except  business  men  and 
that  woman  who  brought  up  the  girl  has  been  found." 

"  We  don't  know  what  his  communication  with  her  may 
have  masked  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  more  than  three  letters  have  passed  between 
them  in  all  this  time  ;  nor  has  he  remitted  money  in  any 
direction,  or  made  any  expeditions  beyond  his  daily  round. 
He  has  been  pretty  steady  in  his  attendance  at  the  Bourse, 
and  done  well  in  a  quiet  way,  but  his  life  has  been  visible 
and  regular.  He  has  bothered  M.  Claude  periodically, 
and  he  looks  a  good  deal  changed  ;  but,  no !  if  he  knew 
his  daughter's  whereabouts  he  never  could  keep  from  giv- 
ing some  sign.     He  is  a  fiery,  impulsive,  open-mouthed 

8 


114  AT  BAY. 

fellow,  who  would  be  too  proud  of  doing  you  to  keep 
silent  about  it.  If  he  were  not  within  reach  of  the  police- 
man he'd  give  me  my  quietus." 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Deering,  with  calm,  comj)lete  acqui- 
escence.   "  What  is  the  name  of  the  woman  in  Wales  ?  " 

"  IVIrs.  KeUett." 

"  I  thought  we  might  have  got  something  out  of  her." 

"Well,  I  did  not,"  returned  Vincent.  "Lambert  was 
so  ready  to  ajjply  to  her.  Moreover,  the  man  tliat  went 
down  to  the  place  found  she  had  been  ill  in  bed  at  the 
very  time  Miss  Lambert  disappeared." 

There  was  a  pause.  "  It  is  the  strangest  case,  I  should 
think,  that  French  detective  ever  came  across,"  resumed 
Deering.  "  I  suppose  he  never  was  baffled  before.  Who 
has  any  interest  in  taking  her  away  ?  Have  you  any 
theory?" 

"  Not  much  of  one.  I  am  sometimes  inchned  to  think 
she  went  off  with  Glynn.  He  was,  I  suspect,  far  gone 
about  her." 

"  No,"  said  Deering,  thoughtfully.  "  No  ;  he  was  with 
me  when  Lambert  broke  in  hke  a  madman,  and  no  one 
could  have  aped  the  hon-or  and  astonishment  he  betx*ayed. 
No,  he  doesn't  know  anisiliing, — or  didn't  a  few  weeks 
ago  ;  but  I  wish  to  heaven  he  hadn't  got  over  that  fever. 
Should  we  ever  find  the  girl  we  shall  have  to  reckon  with 
him,  and  he  is  a  fonnidable  antagonist." 

"  He  can  be  dealt  viath,  I  suppose." 

Deering  did  not  heed  him  ;  he  moved  uneasily  in  his 
chair.  His  brow  contracted  with  a  look  of  fierce  reso- 
lution.   "  Have  you  telegraphed  to  the  New  York  poUce  ?  " 

"  I  waited  to  see  you  first." 

"  You  had  better  do  so.  They  have  a  descrii^tion  of 
Lambert,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  rather  think  not" 

"  Send  it  then." 

"What,  by  wire?" 

«  Yes  ; — ^but  wait, — do  it  through  the  French  detective. 
I  don't  want  to  appear  in  the  matter.  They  were  rather 
taken  with  the  notion  that  Lambert  himself  had  made 
away  with  his  daughter  ?  " 

"  At  first,  yes  ;  but  the  last  time  I  saw  M.  Claude  he 
seemed  to  have  quite  given  up  the  idea." 


will-o'-the-wisp.  115 

"  You  never  know  what  he  thinks.  Now,  what  has  your 
journey  cost  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  to  take  any  money  at  present ;  I  will 
wi'ite  when " 

"  No,"  interrujited  Deering,  imperiously,  "  no  letters — I 
will  neither  write  nor  receive  them — a  telegram,  if  abso- 
lutely necessary.  If  you  have  anything  to  tell,  come  and 
tell  it,  you  can  always  find  my  address  at  the  Club,  and 
never  give  up  the  search.  Here  are  twenty  sovereigns, — 
I  have  no  more  gold  about  me,  and  I'll  not  give  you 
notes, — take  them,  I  insist.  It  suits  me  better  to  pay 
when  I  have  the  opportunity.  Remember — the  sum  orig- 
inally promised  if  you  can  find  her  dead,  double  if  you 
find  her  alive.  Now  you  may  go — stop — wait  till  the  ser- 
vant comes.''  Vincent  paused,  and  as  the  door  opened, 
Deering  said  distinctly  in  courteous  tones,  "  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  for  taking  the  trouble  to  call — I  am 
interested  in  your  search — and  wish  you  all  success. 
Good-morning." 

Lady  Gethin  was  restless  and  expectant  until  the  hour 
arrived  at  which  Glynn  was  due.  She  was  profoundly  in- 
terested in  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  girl  who 
had  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  her  favorite  nephew. 
She  would  like  her  to  be  discovered  safe  and  well  ;  but 
above  all  things,  married  to  some  worthy  person,  and  so 
secure  from  doing  or  receiving  harm.  Then  she  should 
hke  to  see  her,  perhaps  assist  at  her  reconciliation  with 
her  father.  Anyhow  it  was  a  great  mercy  that  she  was 
well  out  of  Hugh's  way,  for  really  the  folly  and  weakness 
of  men  were  such,  etc.,  etc. 

Glynn  was  a  few  minutes  late,  but  was  cordially  wel- 
comed. 

"  I  see  you  have  found  nothing,"  exclaimed  Lady  Gethin, 
as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

"  It  was  a  wild-goose  chase,"  he  replied  with  a  weary 
look. 

"  You  must  tell  me  all  about  it  after  dinner.  You  seem  in 
want  of  a  glass  of  wine, — you  shall  have  some  of  my  best 
Burgundy,  it  is  a  splendid  tonic." 

The  friendly  hostess  was  greatly  distressed  at  her 
guest's  want  of  appetite  ;  she  pressed  him  to  eat,  and  pre- 


110  AT  BAT. 

scribed  various  nostrums,  wliich  he  rejected.  As  soon  as 
the  servants  had  left  the  room  he  brightened  a  httle,  and 
di-awing  his  chaii-  nearer  hers,  began  his  story  in  compli- 
ance with  her  reiterated  entreaty,  "  Come,  teU  me  eveiy- 

nl'had,  he  said,  found  the  head  of  the  Clapham  estab- 
Hshraent  easy  enough  ;  she  was  a  composed,  ceremomou^ 
typical  school-mistress  ;  civil,  but  guarded,  bhe  hstened 
attentively  to  his  story,  and  declared  her  wiUmgness  to  tell 
aU  she  knew  about  the  young  French  lady  who  had  just 
quitted  her  service.  She  had  been  recommended  by  some 
Eno-lish  friends  at  Dinan  ;  and  her  chief  attraction  was 
the^fact  of  her  being  a  Protestant.  Hitherto  IVIrs.  Storrer 
feared  the  introduction  of  a  foreigner  into  her  select  and 
sacred  household,  but  had  no  reason  to  regret  the  entrance 
of  MademoiseUe  Laroche  within  its  precincts.  It  was 
early  in  May  last  that  negotiations  between  herself  and 
the  French  teacher  began  ;  but  she  did  not  enter  upon 
her  duties  till  the  15th  of  June. 

"That,"    said   Glynn,   interrupting  himself,  "was   tne 
day  of  the  ball,— the  day  before  her  disappearance." 

Mrs.  Storrer  described  Mademoiselle  Laroche  as  about 
middle  height,  inclined  to  be  stout,  with  hair  and  eyes 
between  dark  and  fair  ;  not  particularly  graceful ;  and  as 
to  ao-e,— well,  it  was  hard  to  say— she  might  be  twenty- 
one —she  might  be  twenty-five,— appearances  are  decep- 
tive As  to  her  voice— yes,  it  was  pleasant,  unusually 
soft  for  a  French  woman  ;  but  nothing  remarkable !  If 
he  wished  for  MademoiseUe  Laroche's  address,  Mrs.  Storrer 
would  be  happy  to  furnish  it,  though  that  would  not  be 
of  much  avail,  as  the  family  to  whom  she  had  gone  were 
to  start  to-morrow  or  next  day  for  India.  She  had  not 
her  address-book  with  her,  but  would  send  a  note  to  tlie 
governess  to  forward  it  to  Mr.  Glynn. 

"Finally,  I  showed  her  Miss  Lamberts  photograph, 
which  I  always  carry  about  with  me.  She  looked  at  it  with 
a  slow  smile,  and  then  turning  it  said  :  '  No,  this  is  not 
Mademoiselle  Laroche,  this  is  a  charming  young  lady. 
Her  quiet  unconsciousness  of  any  resemblance  convinced 
me  even  more  than  her  words  that  she  could  not  know- 
Elsie."  .  .  .    .'     ,u       A 

"Indeed,"  added  Glynn,  « a  quiet  young  ladies  board- 


WILL-O'-THE- WISP.  117 

ing-school  seems  the  very  last  place  where  one  could  ex- 
pect to  find  a  girl  so  strangely  and  tragically  lost.  Yet 
even  now,  as  I  recall  the  voice  I  heard  the  day  before 
yesterday,  I  cannot  believe  that  I  was  mistaken  !  Is  it  not 
possible  that  a  visitor  might  have  entered  and  walked 
roimd  the  garden  with  the  other  two  ?  unknown  to  the 
head  governess." 

"Of  course  it  is  possible,  but  very  improbable.  If 
Miss  Lambert  was  carried  away  against  her  own  will 
(which  I  do  not  believe),  her  captors  would  not  let  her  go 
visiting;  and  if  she  aided  in  concealing  herself,  why,  she 
would  not  seek  acquaintances." 

"  True,  and  unanswerable.  Still,  when  I  think  of  the 
voice  I  heard  httle  more  than  fortj^-eight  hours  ago,  I 
cannot  resist  the  conviction  that  if  I  could  have  burst 
through  that  accursed  hedge  I  should  have  clasped  Elsie 
— the  real  Elsie — in  my  arms." 

"  Good  heavens,  Hugh !  would  you  have  clasj)ed  her  in 
your  arms  ?  " 

"  I  would !  if  she  had  not  repelled  me  1  I  tell  you  I 
would  give  life  itself, — to  find— the  Elsie  Lambert  I  be- 
lieved in." 

"  Yes,  but  can  you  hope  to  do  so  ?  Must  you  not  admit 
that  the  balance  of  evidence  is  against  such  a  find  ?  "  cried 
Lady  Gethin,  distressed,  yet  deeply  interested. 

"  There  are  beliefs  and  instincts,"  returned  Glynn,  "  the 
deej^est — the  strangest,  respecting  which  one  camiot  rea- 
son !  Shall  we  ever  understand  the  '  wherefore '  that  is 
beyond  and  above  our  material  sense  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  sharply.  "  There  is  a  some- 
thing we  cannot  define  or  fathom  that  stii-s  us  as  though 
a  second  self  was  being  evolved  from  the  coarser  everyday 
serviceable  ego;  but  it  will  always  escape  our  ken  !  Nor 
will  it  do  to  trust  these  bewildering,  shadowy  promptings  ; 
we  must  act  in  the  living  present  by  the  light  of  that  most 
uncommon  faculty,  common  sense.  These  dreamy  tenden- 
cies are  not  like  you !  This  unlucky  business  has  upset 
your  mental  balance,  Hugh.  You  have  done  your  best 
to  find  this  poor  girl ;  she  has  no  claim  whatever  upon 
you.  You  must  try  to  put  her  out  of  your  head,  and  take 
up  your  life  again." 

"  I  suppose  I  must/'  he  returned  thoughtfully  ;  "  but  it 


118  AT  BAT. 

will  be  hard.  Curiously  enough  I  found  a  letter  awaiting 
me  when  I  returned,  from  Lambert,  dated  Liverpool,  in- 
forming me  he  was  to  sail  next  day  for  New  York,  where 
he  had  some  faint  hope  of  finding  a  clue  to  his  daughter. 
He  must  have  jDassed  through  London.  I  am  sui-prised 
he  did  not  call  on  me.  I  did  not  think  he  would  have 
avoided  me." 

" It  looks  odd,"  said  Lady  Gethin.  "By  the  way,  let 
me  see  the  daughter's  photograph  ;  I  did  not  know  you 
carried  it  about,  or  I  shoidd  have  asked  for  it  before." 

Glynn  took  out  the  little  case  in  which  the  picture  was 
carefully  enclosed,  and  gave  it  to  her.  Lady  Gethin 
lookod  long  and  thoughtfully  at  it. 

"  A  sweet  face,"  she  said,  "  somewhat  sad ;  but  a  fine 
expression  ;  it  seems  somehow  familiar  to  me.  Photo- 
graphs are  seldom  true  representations,  and  she  may  be 
very  unlike  the  idea  this  suggests  ;  but  I  wish  I  could 
remember  who  it  is  she  reminds  of." 

"  It  has  not  been  fortunate  for  Elsie  that  her  face  sug- 
gests memories,"  said  Glynn.  "  I  have  a  strong  convic- 
tion that  if  she  had  not  attracted  Deering's  attention  at 
those  Auteuil  races  she  would  be  still  safe  under  her 
father's  care." 

"  You  mean  to  say  you  think  that  a  man  of  Deering's 
position,  character,  standing,  would  give  himself  up  to 
such  scoundrelism.     Hugh !  it  is  too  absurd !  " 

"  I  know  it  is  ;  I  always  dismiss  the  thought,  and  then 
it  gatliers  again  like  a  mist  over  the  morass  of  doubt  in 
wliich  I  am  plunged.  However,  if  he  is  responsible  for 
her  disappearance  he  ceiiainly  does  not  know  where  she 
is  now  ;  but  he  is  seeking  for  her.  Claude,  the  French 
detective,  let  out  as  much  the  last  time  I  saw  him." 

"  Depend  upon  it  the  father  knows  she  is  in  America." 

"  You  think  so  ?     /  doubt  it." 

"  I  wonder  he  is  not  more  confidential  with  you.  Does 
he  know  you  were  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  cei-tainly  not !  " 

"  The  whole  affair  is  incomj)rehen8ible  ! — ^let  me  look  at 
that  photograph  again !     Who  is  it  she  reminds  me  of  ?  " 

Finding  no  reply  in  the  stores  of  her  memory.  Lady 
Gethin  shut  up  the  case  and  restored  it  to  GljTin,  and  to 
change  the  subject  began  to  urge  him  to  resume  his  former 


will-o'-the-wisp.  119 

social  habits  and  mix  with  his  kind.  "  It  wiU  not  ronder 
your  chances  of  finding  your  lost  love  any  the  worse, 
perhaps  better ;  for  if  you  ever  get  a  clue  to  her,  I  sus- 
pect it  will  be  by  accident.  No  one  was  ever  reahy  lost 
in  this  small  world  of  otirs  unless,  indeed,  death  folds  its 
pall  over  the  missing  one." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  probably  find  her  ;  but  how  ?  and  where  ?  " 
said  Glynn,  with  a  sound  of  pain  in  his  voice.  "  At  any 
rate  I  shall  follow  your  advice  !  I  will  try  to  shake  off  this 
despairing  apathy  ;  and,  though  I  cannot  turn  phrases 
prettily,  beheve  me  I  am  warmly  grateful  for  your  sym- 
pathy, your  forbearance  ;  iadeed,  I  do  not  know  what  I 
should  do  without  it." 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

DA^WNING   LIGHT. 

Glynn  was  true  to  his  promise.  He  forced  liimself  back 
to  something  oi'  his  old  routine.  He  took  a  deeper  inter- 
est in  business  than  before,  and  found  something  of  rehef 
in  the  mental  effort  it  obliged  him  to  make. 

Men  said  Glynn  was  greatly  changed  since  that  bad 
fever  he  had  had.  Women  thought  him  more  interesting. 
The  truth  was  hardly  suspected.  It  suited  the  authorities 
of  la  sarete  that  the  affaire  Rue  de  UEvique  should  not  get 
into  the  public  prints.  The  English  newspapers  had 
therefore  never  got  hold  of  the  story. 

One  of  the  chief  interests  in  this  new  phase  of  Glynn's 
existence  was  to  watch  Deering,  whom  he  frequently 
met. 

That  gentleman  affected  some  intimacy  with  Glynn,  and 
made  many  visits  to  the  office  of  Messrs.  Ottley,  Hassali 
and  Ince,  apropos  of  his  railway  scheme. 

Glynn  did  not  reject  his  advances,  though  never  lapsing 
into  intimac}'.  Deering  often  sjioke  of  Lambert,  and  vol- 
unteered the  information  that  the  New  York  police  had 
their  eye  upon  him,  that  he  had  anived  all  right,  landed, 
and  gone  away  South  almost  immediately. 

Gradually  it  dawned  upon  Glynn  that  Deering  was 
watching  him,  that  he  susi>ected  him  of  knowing  more  of 
Elsie's  disappearance  than  any  one  else.  He  was  careful 
not  to  let  Deering  see  that  he  perceived  this,  and  so, 
under  the  fair  seeming  of  friendly  acquaintanceship,  the 
two  men  kept  watch  over  each  other  with  deadly  pertinac- 
ity and  keenness,  Glynn  keeping  profoundest  silence  as 
to  his  conviction  that  he  had  heard  Elsie's  voice,  a  con- 
viction that  tormented  him  in  all  his  silent,  lonely  hours. 
Often  he  accused  himself  of  stupididy  for  too  readily  be- 
lie\-ing  the  stately  JMrs.  Storrer.  But  her  quiet  disavowal  of 
all  likeness  in  the  photograph  to  her  French  teacher, 
(120) 


DAWNING  LIGHT.  121 

coupled  with  Lambert's  letter  stating  that  he  had  some 
faint  hope  of  finding  a  clue  to  his  daughter  in  America, 
put  him  off  the  idea  of  hunting  Mademoiselle  Laroche 
further.  Sometimes  he  felt  that  he  would  give  aU  he  poS' 
sessed  to  shake  himself  clear  of  the  haunting  horror  which 
poisoned  his  life.  Then  the  memory  of  Elsie's  sweet, 
grave,  holy  eyes  would  rise  before  him,  and  he  felt  that  he 
could  endure  all  things,  hope  ah  things,  could  he  but  find 
her,  and  restore  her  to  what  she  was.  On  the  whole,  evil 
anticipations  predominated.  He  had  been  greatly  disap- 
pointed by  Lambert's  avoidance  of  him.  He  cotdd  not 
bear  to  think  that  the  unhappy,  bereaved  father  had  with- 
drawn his  confidence. 

Thus  battling  with  the  fiends  of  doubt  and  fear  that 
lacerated  his  heart,  Glynn  dragged  himself  on  from  day 
to  day. 

In  the  last  week  of  February  Deering's  land-agent 
came  to  town,  bringing  with  him  maps,  plans,  and  calcu- 
lations. To  Glynn's  great  surprise  he  proved  to  be  a 
certain  Dick  Weldon,  formerly  one  of  his  school-feUows. 
This  recognition  led  to  some  intercourse.  Glynn,  with- 
out dehberate  questioning,  gathered  a  good  deal  of  in- 
formation, which  threw  a  new  light  on  Deering's  charac- 
ter in  some  directions.  On  the  subject  of  the  quest 
which  engrossed  them  both  Glynn  maintained  a  profound 
silence. 

His  old  acquaintance  dined  with  him,  and  they  talked 
over  bygone  days  and  boyish  escapades  with  zest,  at  least 
on  "Weldon's  side.  It  was  amazing  to  Glynn  how  fresh 
and  full  the  details  of  past  adventures — even  small  minu- 
tise — dwelt  in  his  old  acquaintance's  mind,  untroubled 
as  it  was  by  a  crowd  of  varied  experiences.  He  had,  it 
seemed,  led  a  quiet,  busy  Hfe,  humbly  useful,  but  unex- 
citing. 

One  cold,  dry,  dark  evening  Glynn  had  accepted  an  in- 
vitation to  dine  with  Weldon  at  the  hotel  in  Holbom 
where  he  usually  stayed  on  his  short  visits  to  town. 

Dinner  was  over,  and  both  men  were  enjoying  a  cigar. 
The  host  had  put  one  or  two  queries,  evidently  prompted 
by  the  curiosity  which  the  contrast  between  Glynn's  pros- 
perity and  his  gloomy  depression  evoked,  but  he  could 
draw  forth  no  responsive  confidence,  and  Weldon,  falling 


122  AT  BAY. 

back  on  his  own  interests,  described  his  home,  his  wife, 
and  children,  pressing  Glynn  warmly  to  pay  them  a  visit, 
when,  to  the  great  sui*prise  of  both,  Peering  was  ushered 
in.  He  apologized  shortly  for  his  intrusion,  and  ex- 
plained that  he  had  just  had  private  intelligence  that  the 
member  for  a  borough  town  near  Denham  was  danger- 
ously ill,  that  even  were  he  to  recover  it  would  be  long 
before  he  could  enter  into  pubhc  life  again,  and  that  he 
(Deering)  wished  to  win  the  probably  vacant  seat.  He 
therefore  wished  Weldon,  who  knew  the  local  population, 
and  was  well  able  to  feel  its  pulse,  to  leave  to^vn  next 
morning,  and  put  matters  in  train  for  an  immediate  can- 
vass, as  the  retirement  of  the  sitting  member  would  most 
probably  be  announced  in  a  day  or  two. 

As  soon  as  he  could  withdraw  without  too  rude  a  dis- 
play of  indifference,  Glynn  rose  to  say  good-night ;  when 
Deering,  somewhat  to  Ms  annoyance,  proposed  to  go  witii 
him. 

"  I  have  no  more  to  say  now,  "Weldon.  As  soon  as  the 
death  or  retirement  is  declared,  I  will  go  down  to  Den- 
ham, and  we  will  not  let  the  grass  grow  under  our  feet ! " 

On  reaching  the  entrance  of  the  hotel,  they  stopped, 
intending  to  caU  a  cab,  and  while  waiting  Glj-nn's  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  two  cloaked  and  veiled  women,  who 
were  standing  close  together  just  within  the  doorway. 
One  was  taU  and  stout,  the  other  barely  of  middle  size, 
her  shoulders,  even  through  the  rain-cloak  wi*apped  round 
her,  showed  unmistakable  gi'ace, — unmistakable  and  fa- 
mihar  ;  a  small  hat  was  entirely  enveloped  in  a  thick  veil, 
which  was  tied  over  her  face,  the  ends  being  brought 
lo«)sely  round  the  throat  to  the  front.  Glynn's  eyes  were 
riveted  on  this  figure,  while  he  seemed  to  be  peering  into 
the  darkness,  and  felt  nervously  anxious  not  to  direct 
Deering's  notice  to  the  object  which  attracted  him. 

"  If  he  could  only  hear  her  speak ! "  He  listened  in- 
tently. 

"It  is  useless,  we  must  try  an  omnibus,  it  is  really 
safer,"  he  overheard  the  taUer  lady  say.  The  other  mur- 
mured something,  and  turning  her  head,  displayed,  in 
spite  of  her  muffling,  a  morsel  of  white  neck,  and  a 
glimpse  of  golden-brown  hair.  Gljom's  heart  beat.  At 
all  risks  he  must  keep  that  girl  in  view  ;  any  mistake  was 


DAWlS-mO   LIGHT.  123 

better  than  to  lose  the  faintest  chance.  But  Deering 
must  not  know  his  suspicions.  Surely  the  faint  sugges- 
tions of  a  likeness  would  strike  him  also  ?  But  Deering 
made  no  remark,  nor  did  he  seem  to  see. 

At  last  the  taller  of  the  two  women  said,  "  Come,"  and 
went  forth  into  the  street.  At  that  moment  an  Islingion 
omnibus  drove  up.  She  stepped  forw^ard  under  the 
nearest  lamp,  and  tried  to  stop  it  by  waving  her  umbrella. 
The  vehicle  was  full,  and  the  two  cloaked  figures  walked 
slowly  away  towards  Oxford  Street. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Glynn,  abruptly,  "  I  am  anxious  to 
get  home  ;  I  will  walk  on  and  take  mj  chance  of  a  cab." 

"  Very  well,"  returned  Deering,  "  I'll  come  with  you." 

Glynn  was  dismayed.  Did  Deering  suspect,  as  he  did, 
that  this  cloaked  and  veiled  figure  might  be  Elsie  Lam- 
bert ?  If  so,  what  could  he  do  to  save  her  from  his  rec- 
ognition ? 

His  heart  thrilled  with  pain  and  delight  at  the  bare 
idea  of  standing  once  more  face  to  face  with  his  lost  love. 
"V\Tiat  secrets  would  that  meeting  unveil  ?  Meanwhile  he 
never  lost  sight  of  the  figures  going  on  before  them,  and 
Deering  spoke  at  intervals. 

"  There's  an  empty  hansom  at  last,"  he  cried. 

"  I  am  going  on  a  little  further,"  said  Glynn.  "  But 
don't  let  me  interfere  with  you." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  mind  walking  with  you ;  I  have  no  en- 
gagement I  care  to  keep,"  he  replied. 

"  Why  does  he  persist  ?  "  thought  Glynn.  "  I  am  going 
to  look  in  on  an  artist  friend  near  Tottenham  Court  Koad," 
he  said  aloud. 

"  Oh !  very  weU  ;  queer  places  these  fellows  put  up  in. 
By  the  way,  I  have  had  another  report  of  our  mutual  ac- 
quaintance, Lambert.  He  is  at  St.  Louis,  and  has  changed 
his  name  for  the  third  or  fourth  time." 

"  Indeed !  then  you  must  have  had  a  telegram  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is,  our  friends,  Claude  and  Co.,  have  com- 
municated theirs  to  me.  If  Lambert  begins  to  try  con- 
cealment we'U  find  out  something." 

"  I  trust  we  shall,"  said  Glynn  mechanically,  his  eyes 
greedily  following  the  two  figures,  lamp  after  lamp  shed- 
ding its  light  upon  them  as  they  passed. 

"  Will  he  never  go  ?  "  he  thought,  quivering  with  excite- 
2uent 


124  AT  BAY. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  situation  to  be  thus  dogging 
tlie  footsteps  of  the  quarry  you  wished  to  preserve  from 
your  fellow-hunter,  and  yet  to  be  unavoidably  leading 
that  hunter  on  her  track. 

"  I  fancy  you  don't  want  me,"  said  Deering  at  last.  "  If 
so " 

"  Why  should  you  think  I  do  not  ?  "  interrupted  Glynn, 
nervously  afraid  to  betray  his  burning  anxiety  to  be  rid  of 
him. 

"  I  can't  exactly  teU  why,"  said  Deering,  laughing,  "  but 
I  am  sure  I  am  right." 

*'  Well,  do  whichever  you  Uke,"  said  Glynn  with  well- 
assumed  indifference, — '*  come  on  with  me  to  Tottenham 
Court  Eoad,  where  you  will  be  sure  to  find  plenty  of  cabs, 
or  pick  up  the  first  empty  one  we  fall  in  with,  and  leave 
me  to  my  fate." 

Glynn  was  almost  beside  himself  with  hope,  dread,  and 
nervous  tension. 

Another  Islington  omnibus  drove  past  and  stopped. 
The  two  ladies  darted  to  it,  exchanged  a  hasty  hand  pres- 
sure, and  then  the  shorter  of  the  two  mounted  swiftly, 
and  vanished  into  the  interior. 

"  Good-night ! "  cried  Glynn,  abruptly  ;  "  the  humble 
'bus  will  suit  me  admirably." 

Before  his  astonished  companion  could  reply  he  was 
beside  the  vehicle,  which  was  still  standing,  as  a  stout  and 
irritable  elderly  gentleman  was  painfully  disentangling 
himself  from  among  the  tightly-packed  passengers. 

"  If  you  had  only  let  me  out  first,"  he  exclaimed  angrily 
as  he  alighted. 

''Trouble  you  for  threepence,"  interrupted  the  con- 
ductor. 

"  Threepence  1  why,  I  only  got  in  at  Leather  Lane." 

"  AU  right !— IsUngton  !  " 

Another  instant  and  Gl;^Tin  occupied  the  stout  man's 
place — nearer  the  door,  but  on  the  opposite  side  to  the 
lady  he  was  following — and  they  were  rolling  rapidly 
westward. 

At  first  he  would  not  let  himself  seem  to  see  her,  and 
by  the  Hght  of  the  omnibus  lamp  he  could  hardly  make 
out  her  features,  so  thick  was  the  lace  which  concealed 
them.    Suddenly  he  saw  her  start  and  draw  her  cloak 


DAWNIKG  LIGHT.  125 

closer  together  with  a  nervous  movement.  Had  she  rec- 
ognized him  ? 

Gradually,  his  eyes  growing  familiar  with  the  Hght  and 
the  texture  of  the  veil,  the  conviction  grew  upon  him  that 
he  was  not  mistaken,  that  it  was  indeed  Elsie  Lambert. 
It  was  by  a  powerful  exertion  of  will  that  he  controlled 
the  burning  impulse  to  address  her,  to  take  the  place  be- 
side her  vacated  by  an  old  lady.  She  could  not  leave  the 
conveyance  without  passing  him  ;  he  would  be  quiet  and 
careful.  But  if  her  father  was  seeking  her  in  America, 
how  came  she  here,  alone,  and  evidently  disguised  ? 
What  frightful  confession  of  weakness,  betrayal,  and 
duplicity  awaited  him !  for  this  night  he  would  know 
everything.  He  had  her  in  his  grasp,  and  she  should  not 
escape.  The  minutes  were  like  drops  of  lead,  and  still 
the  commonplace  every-day  'bus  rolled  on,  its  occupants 
little  dreaming  what  elements  of  tragedy  were  enclosed 
within  it. 

At  last  he  observed  Elsie — yes,  it  was  Elsie — murmur 
something  to  her  next  neighbor,  who  immediately  caUed 
out — 

"Conductor,  Chapel  Street  for  this  lady." 

The  omnibus  stop];)ed.  Gl^'nn  kept  quietly  in  his 
place,  but  sprang  out  the  moment  she  had  passed  him. 
The  omnibus  drove  rapidly  away. 

The  slight  dark  figure  was  but  a  few  paces  before  him 
in  a  quiet  street  leading  from  the  omnibus  line.  The 
longed-for,  dreaded  moment  had  come.  He  walked  rap- 
idly past  her,  turned  round  suddenly,  and  confronting  her, 
exclaimed  : 

"  Miss  Lambert — Elsie !  you  cannot  wish  to  avoid  me  ?  " 

She  stopped,  and  put  out  both  her  hands  with  a  repel- 
lent gesture  of  helpless  terror  that  touched  Glynn's  heart 
with  immense  pity. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  fear  me  ?  "  he  said,  catching  both  her 
hands  in  his. 

She  was  silent,  motionless  ;  but  as  he  almost  uncon- 
sciously drew  her  nearer  to  him,  he  felt  that  she  was 
trembling  so  violently  that  she  could  scarcely  stand. 

"  Do  not  fear,  I  will  not  betray  you  to  any  one,  I  will 
help  you  if  I  can.  Will  you  not  speak  to  me  ?  Is  it  the 
Elsie  I  used  to  know  ?  " 


126  AT  BAT. 

With  a  long,  quivering  sigh  she  "vrhispered,  "  It  is." 

"  Let  me  look  at  your  face  once  more,"  said  Glynn  in 
a  low  intense  tone.  "Don't  you  know  you  may  trust 
me?" 

"It  is  not  for  myself  I  fear,"  she  said  in  the  same 
hushed,  frightened  voice,  as  she  yielded  to  the  movement 
by  which  he  drew  her  under  a  lamp  ;  and  loosening  her 
veil,  she  hfted  it,  raising  her  eyes  with  theii*  well-remem- 
bered expression  of  thoughtful  candor  to  his.  How  lovely 
they  were !  With  what  rapture  Glynn  read  in  them  the 
confirmation  of  her  assurance  that  she  was  the  same  Elsie 
he  had  loved  and  lost.  But  she  was  changed  ;  the  sweet 
eyes  were  unutterably  sad,  and  the  delicate  cheek  was  less 
rounded.  The  soft  Hps  were  pale,  and  quivered  nervously, 
and  the  hand  he  still  held  was  thinner.  She  seemed  un- 
able to  suppress  the  excessive  trembling  that  had  seized 
her.  Glynn's  whole  soul  went  out  to  her  in  love  and  trust ; 
he  could  hardly  resist  the  impvilse  to  clasp  her  to  his  heart, 
to  shelter  her  against  all  ill  in  his  bosom.  But  might  she 
not  be  the  wife  of  another  man  ?  Anything  might  have 
happened  during  the  terrible  blank ;  and,  above  all,  he 
must  win  her  confidence. 

"  Ah,  yes,  you  are  indeed  the  same.  Why — why  have 
you  given  us  all  this  sorrow,  this  fearful  anxiety  ?  Think 
of  what  your  poor  father  has  suffered !  Do  you  know  that 
he  has  gone  to  America  to  search  for  you  ?  " 

"  My  father ! "  she  repeated,  "  my  poor  dear  father  1 " 
Then  she  paused,  as  if  resisting  the  inclination  to  speak. 

"  I  must  not  keep  you  here  in  the  cold,  dark  street.  I 
cannot  let  you  go  alone.     May  I  not  come  with  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no,"  she  repeated  ;  "  you  must  let  me  go. 
I  cannot,  dare  not  let  you  come  with  me.  I  must  not  tell 
you  anything." 

"Now  that  I  have  found  you,  do  you  think  I  will  lose 
eight  of  you  again  ?  " 

"  You  will,  I  am  sure,  do  what  is  best  for  me,  and  kind- 
est," said  Elsie,  trying  to  be  calm,  and  wrapping  the  veil 
round  her  face  again.  "  Let  us  move  on  ;  we  shall  attract 
attention." 

She  did  not  resist  when  he  drew  her  arm  through  his 
own,  and  they  slowly  paced  up  the  street  in  which  he  had 
overtaken  her. 


DAWNING   LIGHT.  127 

"  Do  you  think  me  capable  of  betraying  you  ?  "  asked 
Glynn. 

"  No,"  after  a  pause,  as  if  to  plan  her  speech  ;  "  but  I 
have  more  than  myself  to  think  of.  You  must  not  ask  me 
any  questions." 

"  Can  you  say  nothing  ?  Is  there  no  way  in  which  I  can 
help  you  ?  " 

"I  fear  not— I  do  not  know — I — "  she  stopped  and 
drew  a  long,  sobbing  breath — "  I  dare  not  speak.  Any 
word  might  betray  more  than  I  ought." 

"  For  your  father's  sake  ! — think  of  all  he  must  endure. 
Have  you  any  duty  to  come  before  what  you  owe  him  ?  " 

He  waited  for  her  reply  as  for  a  sentence  of  life  or 
death. 

"  Think  of  him !  do  I  not  think  of  him  ?  My  love  and 
duty  are  his  only.  But " — she  tried  to  withdraw  her  arm — 
"  you  must  let  me  go  ;  I  dare  not  stay." 

"  I  cannot  let  you  go  unless  you  promise  to  meet  me 
again,  or  tell  me  where  I  may  see  you.  No,  I  will  not  re- 
lease your  arm.  Elsie — Miss  Lambert,  I  have  been  seek- 
ing you  for  seven  months ;  my  brain  has  reeled  at  the 
horror  of  its  own  picture  of  your  fate  ;  I  cannot  let  you 
go  now.  Why  do  you  distrust  me?  Let  me  take  you 
home.    How  could  I  leave  you  here  in  the  dark  alone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  torment  me  !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  her  voice 
expressed  such  pain  that  Glynn  almost  hesitated  to  per- 
severe in  his  efforts  to  detain  her.  "  Li  truth  I  long  to 
take  you  with  me  ;  I  am  stire  you  are  kind  and  true,  and 
I  fear  to  be  alone  ;  but  I  will  brave  anything,  endure  any- 
thing rather  than  say  whence  I  came  and  whither  I  go. 
Do  not  be  angry  with  me." 

She  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  leaning  against  him 
as  if  from  sheer  inability  to  stand  alone. 

"  Good  God !  Elsie,  what  can  I  do  to  comfort  and  help 
you  ?  I  implore  you  to  trust  me.  If  I  let  you  go  now 
without  retaining  some  clue  by  which  I  can  find  you,  I 
can  never  forgive  myself." 

"  I  long  to  teU  you  much,  all,  but  I  must  not.  Yet  I 
might  get  leave  ;  I  might  write.  Give  me  your  address ; 
I  may  write  to  you." 

"  Will  you  promise  this,  solemnly,  faithfully  ?  " 

"  If  I  do,  will  you  let  me  go  ?  I  am  late  already.  He 
will  be  so  anxious." 


128  AT  BAT. 

"He!  who  ?  "  a  throb  of  fierce  jealousy  vibrated  through 
Glynn's  heart.  "  If  you  promise  to  see  me  once  more, 
■when  and  where  you  will,  I  will  trust  you  and  let  you  go. 
You  see,  I  have  more  faith  in  you  than  you  have  in  me." 

"  No  ;  you  are  free,  I  am  not.  I  have  faith  in  you,  but 
— ^WeU,  promise  for  promise.  I  will  promise  to  write  to 
you  before  Friday  night,  if  you  will  promise  not  to  make 
any  attempt  to  discover  me  until  after  I  have  written." 

"  Good  ;  then  promise  for  promise." 

"  I  promise  to  write  to  you,  and — and  if  possible  to  see 
you." 

"  There  must  be  nothing  about  possibility,"  said  Glynn, 
sternly.  "  Give  me  an  unconditional  promise,  or  I  shall 
not  leave  you !  " 

She  hesitated,  and  then  said  solemnly,  "I  promise." 

"  And  I  trust  your  promise,"  returned  Glynn.  "  On 
my  part  I  promise  not  to  make  any  attempt  to  track  you 
until  I  have  received  your  letter,  or  rather  until  I  have 
seen  you." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  Elsie,  who  seemed 
to  recover  herself  a  little,  said  softly,  "  Then,  good-night ! " 

"  I  cannot  part  with  you  yet,"  cried  Glynn,  passionately  ; 
"  I  cannot  bear  to  let  you  go  alone.  Tell  me,  did  you  rec- 
ognize me  in  the  omnibus  ?  " 

"  Not  all  at  once  ;  a  little  while  after  I  had  got  in.  At 
first,  for  some  time,  I  thought  you  did  not  know  me — I 
hoped  you  did  not." 

"  I  knew  you  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  and  followed  you." 

She  started.  "  I  must  go  now,  I  have  stayed  too  long. 
Call  a  cab  for  me,  and  tell  the  driver  to  go  to  the  Great 
Northern  Station.     I  wiU  direct  him  after." 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  let  you  go  alone." 

"  You  must  1 "  impressively.  "  I  am  braver  than  I  used 
to  be." 

"  At  least  hold  my  arm  till  we  find  a  cab,"  said  Glynn, 
pressing  hers  to  his  side,  as  they  turned  back  to  the  thor- 
oughfare from  which  the  street  led.  Elsie  submitted  to 
his  guidance  silently.  Glynn's  heart  beat  strongly  with 
mixed  emotions.  The  rapture  of  meeting  her  was  great — > 
the  fear  of  losing  her  st^l  greater.  His  promise  forbade 
his  following  her,  and  he  seemed  as  far  from  solving  the 
mystery  of  ter  disappearance  as  ever.    She  was  moved  at 


DAWNING   LIGHT,  129 

the  mention  of  her  father,  yet  not  in  the  way  he  expected  ; 
3he  had  evidently  suffered.  Was  he  culpably  weak  in  let- 
ting her  go  ?  But  he  had  no  choice.  He  could  not  resist 
her  tears,  her  distress. 

Soon,  too  soon,  they  found  a  cab.  Glynn  scrutinized 
the  driver  ;  he  did  not  look  like  a  ruffian.  With  an  effort 
he  subdued  his  reluctance  to  pai-t  with  her,  and  assisted 
her  into  the  conveyance,  remembering  with  a  pang  how 
he  had  handed  her  into  the  carriage  after  the  ball  and 
sent  her  forth  to — he  could  not  tell  what  wretchedness 
and  wrong. 

"  You  will  be  true  to  your  word,"  he  said,  pressing  her 
hand  as  he  gave  her  his  card. 

"  I  will,"  she  whispered.  "  Perhaps  it  may  prove  for- 
tunate that  I  have  met  you." 

"  God  grant  it,"  he  returned  ;  then  drawing  back,  said 
aloud,  for  the  benefit  of  the  driver,  "You  wiU  let  me 
know  if  you  arrive  all  right ";  and  waited  till  the  man 
had  ascended  the  box,  when  he  asked  and  obtained  his 
ticket.  That  at  least  was  something  to  have  and  to  hold. 
Elsie  drew  up  the  window  and  leaned  back  well  out  of 
sight.  The  cab  rolled  away  into  the  darkness,  and  Glynn 
was  left  standing  alone.  Collecting  himself,  he  walked 
briskly  away  in  a  southwesterly  direction.  Lady  Gethin 
was  right,  a  mere  accident  brought  him  the  fulfilment  of 
his  passionate  desii'e — that  which  he  had  sought  for  with 
such  agonizing  eagerness.  How  strange  that  Deering 
should  have  been  with  him  when  he  caught  sight  of  some- 
thing famihar  in  the  neck  and  shoulders  of  the  cloaked 
figure!  He  would  not  soon  forget  the  torment  of  that 
walk  along  the  dusky  street,  the  dread  of  drawing  Deering's 
attention  to  the  object  of  his  ovm  intense  observation, 
the  difficulty  of  getting  rid  of  him.  Siu'ely  the  stars  in 
their  courses  fought  for  him  (Glynn).  Good  must  come 
out  of  so  strange  a  turn  of  fortune's  wheel.  At  least  he 
had  found  Elsie  safe — safe  apparently  from  any  pressing 
danger,  and  though  looking  ill  and  worn,  comparatively 
well.     He  had  therefore  room  for  hope. 

But   she  was  evidently   under  the  influence  of   some 

strong  wiU,  the  pressure  of  some  great  necessity.     Woula 

she  be  true  to  her  promise  ?    Yes,  a  thousand  times  yes  I 

With  the  sight  of  her  fair,  sad  face,  the  sound  of  the 

9 


130  AT  BAT. 

tremulous  voice,  all  his  faith  in  her  returned.  It;  was 
inai'\ellous  the  soi*t  of  tender  reverence  she  inspired  in 
him — this  inexperienced  creature,  who  was  almost  young 
enough  to  be  his  daughter,  and  utterly  unlearned  in  the 
world's  lore  which  was  so  familiar  to  himself !  She  was 
Mot  even  a  highly-accompUshed,  deeply-read  young  lady. 
There  was  an  old-fashioned  charm  of  sincerity  and  earn- 
estness about  her  infinitely  attractive.  But  she  must  have 
undergone  some  severe  shock,  or  trial.  Her  nerves  seemed 
shattered.  When  should  he  know  all  ?  Would  any  blame 
attach  to  her  ?  And  Glynn  answered  his  own  question 
with  a  resolute  "No."  Then  giving  himself  up  to  the 
first  real  intense  passion  he  had  ever  felt,  he  resolved  to 
win  her,  to  wed  her,  to  know  even  a  few  months'  entire 
happiness — if  she  would  share  that  hajjpiness — unless  the 
secret  to  be  revealed  hid  some  insurmountable  barrier. 

So  far  sure  of  his  own  consent,  Glynn  felt  more  com- 
posed ;  but  the  hours  dragged  fearfully. 

The  next  day  he  had  a  visit  in  his  private  room  from 
Deering,  who  was  at  the  office  on  business,  and  said  he 
was  going  to  Denham  for  a  few  days.  He  then  added 
that  Vincent  had  presumed  to  call  on  him,  to  his  great 
surprise,  his  excuse  being,  that  he  had  heard  from  St. 
Louis  that  Lambert  was  there  imder  another  name,  and 
had  a  wife  and  daughter  with  him  ;  that  the  police  were 
following  him  close,  but  could  find  no  pretext  at  present 
for  arresting  him. 

GljTm  said  very  Kttle  in  reply.  He  watched  Deering 
keenly  as  he  spoke,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
had  no  suspicion  that  Elsie  was  so  near. 

"  I  don't  suppose  we  shall  ever  get  to  the  bottom  of  the 
affair  '  Rue  de  L'Eveque,'  as  the  French  detectives  call  it, 
till  the  law  has  got  its  grip  on  that  scoundrel  Lambert." 

"  I  think  he  is  more  an  adventurer  than  a  scoundrel," 
said  Glynn  coldly  ;  "  and  I  confess  I  see  no  reason  for 
supposing  he  is  in  the  secret  of  his  daughter's  disappear- 
ance ;  but  perhaps  you  know  more  than  I  do." 

Deering  looked  at  him  with  a  quick,  keen  glance — a 
glance  of  dislike  and  distnast.  "On  the  coJxh:axj,  you 
were  the  intimate  friend,  the  favored  guest  of  Lambert, 
and  of  his  charming  daughter,  of  whom  I  suspect  he 
made  a  profitable  inyestmeni." 


DAWNING   LIGHT.  131 

"  It  is  blasphemy  to  say  so,"  exclaimed  Glynn  indig- 
nantly. "  Lambert  may  have  a  queer  history,  but  no  irre- 
proachable member  of  the  best  society  could  be  a  better 
guardian  of  his  daughter  than  he  was !  Do  not  let  him 
hear  you  utter  such  an  insinuation,  should  you  ever  meet 
again,  or  you  might  not  like  his  reply! " 

Deering  elevated  his  eyebrows  contemptuously.  "  You 
are  remarkably  loyal,"  he  said.  "  Well,  good-morning  ;  I 
shall  probably  see  you  next  week." 

Thiu'sday  passed  and  no  letter  ;  well,  there  were  twenty- 
four  hours  yet  to  spare.  Glynn  dined  that  day  with  Lady 
Gethin,  and  as  usual  outstayed  the  other  guests. 

"  I  haven't  seen  you  for  an  age,  Hugh,"  she  said,  settling 
herself  in  her  favorite  chair.  "  You  are  looking  better, 
as  if  some  hfe  was  waking  up  within  you  ;  but  you  are 
very  restless  and  distrait ;  at  dinner  you  did  not  seem  able 
to  attend  to  any  one  or  anything  for  more  than  five 
minutes.     Have  you  found  any  trace  of  the  lost  one  ?  " 

"  I  am  too  uncertain  to  talk  about  it — wait  for  a  few 
days." 

"  Ah !  then  you  have,"  cried  her  ladyship  triumphantly. 
"  I  protest  I  would  give  my  Louis  Quatorze  watch,  dia- 
monds and  all,  to  Imow  the  truth  of  that  extraordinary 
story,  and  to  see  the  girl  who  has  fascinated  you — for  she 
has — you  know  she  has !  " 

"  I  wUl  confess  nothing,  and  discuss  nothing  with  you, 
Lady  Gethin,"  he  returned  laughing,  and  pulling  his  long 
dark  moustaches.  "  I  know  the  power  of  your  fascina- 
tion sufficiently  to  be  aware  that  if  I  once  began  there 
is  not  a  comer  of  my  mind  I  would  not  turn  inside-out 
for  your  inspection." 

"  Ah  1  that  is  all  very  fine,"  exclaimed  Lady  Gethin  in 
high  glee  ;  "  but  you  will  not  say  a  word  more  than  you 
choose.  If  you  ever  find  this  young  lady,  you  reaUy 
must  manage  to  let  me  see  her." 

"  Would  you  come  and  see  her  ?  "  asked  Glynn,  as  de- 
lightful intoxicating  possibilities  floated  before  his  eyes. 

"  Find  me  a  decent  excuse,  and  I'll  come  fast  enough  1 
Hugh,  I  suspect  you  know  where  she  is  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,  indeed — I  wish  I  did." 

"  Well,  for  Heaven's  sake,  do  nothing  foolish  when  she 
does  appear,  for  you  will  find  her,  if  she  is  above  ground." 


132  AT  BAT. 

Friday,  and  no  letter.  Glynn  kept  indoors  nearly  the 
whole  day,  sent  an  excuse  to  the  house  where  he  was 
engaged  to  dine,  and  sat,  trying  to  read,  and  watching 
for  the  last  dehvery.  It  came,  but  brought  him  no  letter 
from  Elsie. 

Then  he  called  himself  a  drivelling  fool,  a  weak-minded 
idiot.  "Why  had  he  allowed  the  tears  and  terror  of  that 
unhappy  girl  to  delude  him  ?  He  ought  to  have  kept  her 
in  his  grasp  once  he  had  found  her.  But  he  had  been  so 
sure  of  her  keeping  faith.  Now  his  veiy  faith  was 
shaken.  What  might  not  be  revealed  if  Msie  had  de- 
ceived him  ? 

He  could  not  sleep.  He  spent  the  night  in  planning 
schemes  of  detection.  He  found  in  the  depths  of  his 
present  depression  the  measure  of  the  height  of  hope  to 
which  he  had  risen  yesterday. 

Next  morning  he  rose,  fevered  by  want  of  sleep,  and 
eager  to  begin  his  search.  He  was  dressed  before  the 
eight  o'clock  post  came  in,  and  was  ah-eady  writing,  when 
several  letters  were  brought  to  him,  one  directed  in  a 
stiff,  careful,  unknown  hand,  bearing  the  postmai'k  of 
"  Clapham."  He  tore  it  open  and  read — "  Come  on  Sat- 
urday at  two.  30,  Garston  Terrace,  Towers  lload,  IsHng- 
ton."  These  lines  were  imsigned,  and  might  be  meant 
for  any  one,  as  there  was  no  address,  yet  GljTin  never 
doubted  that  the  lines  were  meant  for  him,  and  were 
written  by  Elsie  Lambert.  At  two  o'clock  I  How  near 
and  yet  how  far !  little  over  six  hours.  How  should  he 
get  thi'ough  them  ?  He  had  work  at  his  office,  and  must 
arrange  for  a  free  afternoon  ;  that  was  not  difficult ;  he 
had  not  been  regularly  in  harness  since  his  severe  ill- 
ness. Then  he  must  supply  himself  with  money.  It  was 
impossible  to  say  what  steps  might  be  necessary.  He  was 
glad  Peering  had  gone  out  of  town.  There  seemed  a 
fataUty  about  his  connection  with  Lambert.  He  always 
came  to  the  front  when  there  wag  any  stir  in  the  Lambert 
affair. 

At  last  it  was  time  to  go  citywards.  Fii'st,  however,  he 
drove  to  Deering's  house  and  ascertained  that  he  had 
gone  out  of  town.  The  morning  houi*s  fled  away  swifter 
than  he  had  hoped,  though  he  had  a  hard  struggle  to  at- 
tend to  tha  business  before  him.    But  he  had  acquired  a 


DAWNING   LIGHT.  133 

good  deal  of  self-mastery  in  the  course  of  his  varied  ex- 
perience, and  few  of  those  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact would  have  guessed  that  his  heart  was  perpetually 
repeating  the  words,  "  What  disclosures  await  me  ?  " 

After  a  vain  attempt  to  eat,  he  took  the  train  to  King's 
Cross,  and  then  hailed  a  cab,  desiring  the  driver  to  put 
him  down  in  Towers  Road.  This  proved  a  long,  dusty 
thoroughfare.  Nor  did  he  find  Garston  Terrace  till  after 
many  inquiries  and  walking  some  distance.  It  wa&  a  lit- 
tle crooked  lane,  where  some  exceedingly  new  houses 
looked  over  a  field  and  a  few  trees.  The  door  was  opened 
by  a  fresh-colored,  countrified-looking  old  woman,  in  a 
beautifully  white  cap.  Glynn  was  utterly  at  a  loss,  he 
did  not  know  for  whom  he  should  inquire.  He  feared  to 
mention  a  young  lady ;  he  thought  of  asking  if  there 
were  rooms  to  let  in  the  house — of  a  dozen  things  for  the 
instant  or  two,  during  which  they  stood  gazing  at  each 
other.  At  last  the  servant  or  owner  of  the  house  said,  in 
a  broad  accent — 

"  You'll  be  the  gentleman  to  see  Mr.  Smith  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  returned  Glynn,  infinitely  relieved. 

•'  Walk  in,  please."  When  he  obeyed  she  opened  the 
door  of  a  tolerably  large  room  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
which  looked  into  a  smaU  garden,  behind  which  was  a 
high  dead  wall,  separating  it  from  a  manufactory  of  some 
humble  sort. 

It  was  very  simply  furnished — simple  to  plainness — yet 
neither  ugly  nor  uncomfortable.  Here  his  conductress 
left  him,  and  disregarding  her  invitation  to  take  a  "  cheer," 
he  stood  by  the  fire,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  door  in  a  state 
of  painful  expectancy.  The  sound  of  footsteps  overhead, 
the  murmur  of  voices  made  themselves  heard,  then  the 
door  slowly  opened,  and  Elsie  herself  came  in  softly.  She 
was  dressed  in  black,  but  not  in  mourning,  and  looked 
deadly  pale  ;  her  eyes  seemed  larger  and  darker  than  they 
used.  She  made  a  step  or  two  into  the  room,  and  then 
stopped,  holding  out  both  hands,  a  smile  curving  her  Up, 
which  yet  trembled,  as  if  on  the  verge  of  tears. 

Glynn  seized  the  hands  she  offered,  and,  in  the  rapture 
of  seeing  her  again,  kissed  them  more  than  once.  "  I 
have  imagined  such  horrors  that  I  cannot  restrain  my  joy 
at  finding  you,"  he  exclaimed,  his  voice  broken  with  in- 


134  AT  BAT. 

tense  feeling.  "  "Why  have  you  caused  us  this  cruel 
anxiety  ?  " 

"  How  good  you  are  to  care  so  much,"  she  said,  looking 
at  him  with  a  wondering  expression.  "  You  will  find  I  am 
not  to  blame.  Oh  !  I  feared  I  should  never  get  leave  to 
write  to  you,  that  you  would  think  I  had  broken  my  prom- 
ise !  I  wished  to  send  for  you  long  ago.  I  know  we  can 
tnist  you." 

"  We  !  "  Good  heavens !  was  she  married,  then  ?  "  "We ! " 
he  repeated  hoarsely, — "  who — who  do  you  mean  ? — your 
husband  and  yoiu'self  ?  " 

"  My  husband  !  "  a  smile  gleaming  over  her  face.  "  I 
am  not  married !     No — my  father." 

•'  Your  father !  "  letting  her  mthdraw  her  hands.  "  He 
is  in  America,  is  he  not  ?  " 

"  He  is  here — here  in  this  house." 

"  I  feel  bewildered,"  said  Glynn,  taking  the  seat  she 
pointed  to  and  drawing  it  near  her.  "  "WiU  you  not  en- 
tighten  me  ?  " 

"  I  know  so  little,  and  my  father  wishes  to  teU  you 
everything  himself.  Ah  !  you  will  see  him  so  changed." 
A  quick  sob  caught  her  breath,  but  she  went  on  calmly  : 
"  He  was  changed  enough  when  he  first  came,  but  he  has 
been  seriously  iU.  He  caught  a  bad  cold  when  travelling 
here,  and  has  had  inflammation  of  the  lungs.  He  is  so 
weak  ;  will  you  come  to  him  ?  Now  he  has  agreed  to  let 
you  come,  he  is  quite  anxious  to  see  you." 

"  In  a  moment.  TeU  me,  how  are  you  yourself  ?  You 
look  weary,  as  if  you  had  suffered." 

"  I  have.  It  has  been  such  a  wretched,  miserable  time, 
almost  unbearable,  until  my  father  came — always  hiding, 
always  a  mystery." 

"And  how  did  Lambert — ^how  did  your  father  find 
you?" 

"My  father  find  me?"  with  an  air  of  astonishment. 
*•  Ah  1  he  will  tell  you  everything.  Come  up-stairs  to 
him." 

Glynn  rose  to  foUow  her  with  a  faint  feeling  of  disap- 
pointment. She  was  evidently  delighted  to  see  him,  full 
of  faith  in  him,  but  utterly  devoid  of  that  delicious  con- 
sciousness which  no  wojuan  in  love  can  quite  conceal ;  and 
grief  for  the  supposed  loss  of  this  girl  had  almost  cost  him 


DAWNING   LIGnT.  135 

his  life  I — while  for  the  present  the   mystery  was  more 
mysterious  than  ever. 

Elsie  led  the  way  up  a  narrow  stair  to  the  upper  story, 
the  same  look  of  neat  simplicity  characterizing  the  rest  of 
the  house,  and  opening  the  door  of  a  good-sized  bed- 
room, she  said,  "  Here  is  Mr.  Glynn,  dear." 

In  a  large  arm-chair,  his  feet  on  a  footstool,  and  covered 
with  a  warm  plaid,  propped  by  piUows,  and  close  to  a 
good  fire,  sat,  or  rather  reclined,  Lambert,  a  small  table 
near  him,  on  which  stood  a  medicine-bottle  and  glass.  A 
door  leading  into  another  room  stood  open. 

Elsie  was  right.  Her  father  was  wofully  changed.  His 
cheeks  were  hoUow  ;  his  skin  yellow  and  wrinkled  ;  his 
once  half -humorous,  half-defiant  expression  was  gone,  and 
replaced  by  a  watchful,  pitiful  look,  like  a  creature  always 
expecting  a  blow,  pathetic  too  in  its  wistfulness.  One 
thin,  claw-like  hand  grasped  the  arm  of  the  chair.  As 
he  tui'ned  to  gaze  eagerly  towards  the  door,  a  smile  of 
pleasure,  a  sort  of  relieved  look  beamed  over  his  face  as 
Glynn  advanced.  "  Ah !  this  is  kind — ^this  is  like  a  good 
fellow,  as  I  always  thought  you  were,"  he  whispered  in  a 
weak,  tremulous  voice.  "I  have  just  been  wearying  to 
see  you,  but  afraid,  afraid !  "  He  sank  back  on  his  cush- 
ions, still  holding  Glynn's  hand,  and  gazing  at  him  im- 
ploringly. 

"  You  know,  Lambert,  I  am  worthy  of  some  trust,  and 
desire  nothing  more  than  to  be  of  service  to  you,"  said 
Glynn,  suppressing  aU  tokens  of  his  immense  surprise, 
and  speaking  with  studied  calmness.  "You  must  not 
fatigue  or  excite  yourself.  Now  that  you  have  allowed 
me  to  know  your  address,  I  can  come  often  to  see  you, 
and  do  anything  you  want  in  the  way  of  commissions." 

"  Ah  I  but  we  must  take  care — we  must  take  care."  He 
sighed  deeply,  raising  and  letting  fall  his  poor  wasted 
hand  with  a  despairing  gesture. 

While  he  spoke  Elsie  had  measured  out  his  medicine, 
and  now  gave  it  to  him,  saying,  "  Try  not  to  sjieak  too 
much,  dear  father.  I  will  leave  you  to  have  a  nice  visit 
from  Mr.  Glynn  aU  to  yourself,"  with  a  sweet,  kind  smile 
and  thankful  look.  "  I  shall  see  you  before  you  go."  She 
closed  the  door  between  the  two  rooms. 

"Lock  the  other  one,  lock  it,  Elsie,"  said  Lambert 
eagerly. 


1«6  AT  BAT. 

'*  Yes,  I  wilL"    She  disappeared. 

"  Come  near  me,  nearer  ;  we  must  speak  low,"  said  the 
invalid. 

Glynn  brought  a  chair  close  to  his. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Lambert,  more  calmly  than  he  had  yet 
spoken,  "  do  you  think  your  old  comrade  a  malefactor  ? 
do  you  think  I  am  dodging  the  poHce  because  I  hide 
away  from  evei'y  one  ?  " 

•'  No !  There  is  something  wrong,  of  course, — conceal- 
ment always  impHes  that  ;  but  I  suspect  you  are  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning  ;  at  any  rate,  I  repeat,  if  I  can 
serve  you " 

"  Ay !  "  interrupted  Lambert ;  "  but  to  serve  me  you 
must  know  all,  and  that  is  more  than  I  can  teU  to-day; 
but  I  have  broken  no  law — I  don't  know  that  I  ever  did, 
though  I  have  done  queer  things — not  for  thirteen  years 
though,  for  all  that  time  I  have  led  a  decent  life  ;  and  now 
it's  for  the  good  as  v/eU  as  the  evil  I  have  done  that  I  am 
persecuted!  Glynn,  aU  I  can  find  strength  to  say  is, 
wiU  you  help  me  to  save  my  Elsie  ?  Will  you  be  her 
guardian,  and  take  care  of  her  Httle  fortune  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Glynn  ;  "  but  I  trust  and  see  every  reason 
to  hope  that  you  vnU  be  her  guardian  yourself  for  many  a 
year ! " 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  impatiently.  "  I  want 
you  to  take  charge  of  her  money,  without  deeds  or  papers, 
or  lawyers,  for  I  can  see  no  one.  Just  give  me  a  written 
acknowledgment.  Her  money  stands  in  the  name  of  the 
good  woman  who  was  my  darUng's  foster-mother,  and  she 
is  not  fit  to  manage  it,  and  is  afraid  to  keep  it.  But  I 
trust  you,  Glynn !  O  God !  I  must  trust  you !  and  when 
the  money  is  transferred  to  you,  then  you  must  settle 
it  on  her,  and  appoint  trustees."  He  paused,  much  ex- 
hausted. 

"I  will  do  exactly  what  you  wish  in  the  matter,"  said 
Glynn,  anxious  to  soothe  him,  "  and  do  my  best  to  deserve 
the  high  confidence  you  place  in  me." 

"  Thank  you,  God  bless  you ! "  with  a  sigh  of  relief, 
laying  his  hand  on  Glynn's  ;  "  and  you  will  lose  no  time 
about  it.  IVIrs.  Kellett  shall  call  on  you  on  Monday,  and 
go  with  you  to  the  brokers.  Tlie  money  is  in  Spanish 
bonds  and  Australian  railways  ;  it  can  be  handed  over  to 


DAWNING   LIGHT.  137 

you  with  the  stroke  of  a  pen  ;  but  you  know  all  that  better 
than  I  do — ha,  ha  !  "  He  laughed  feebly.  "  I  didn't  know 
what  a  big  boss  you  were  when  I  wanted  to  make  a  match 
between  my  dear  little  girl  and  you." 

"  Miss  Lambert  deserves  a  better  man  than  I  am,"  said 
Glynn. 

Lambert  looked  at  him  sharply.  "There's  one  thing 
more,  important  enough,  but  not  so  pressing  as  the  money. 
Do  you  know  any  lady  that  would  be  kind  to  Elsie,  and 
look  after  her?  she  hasn't  a  lady  friend  in  the  world — ■ 
those  French  women  are  no  use.  But  mind,  she  must  be 
strong,  with  either  money  or  rank,  and  a  resolute  woman, 
who  knows  the  world.  Lord !  it  can't  be  easy  to  find  a 
clever,  well-placed,  kindly  woman." 

"  Far  from  it,  yet  not  impossible.  I  will  undertake  to 
search  for  this  rarity  ;  but  before  I  do  I  must  know 
more.  I  cannot  ask  another  to  put  the  faith  in  you  that 
Ida" 

"  Fair  enough,  fair  enough !  Well,  I'll  tell  you  a  lot  in 
a  few  days  ;  I  darent  begin  now,  it  would  kill  me." 

"  You  must  keep  up  your  heart,  Lambert,  you  must  live 
for  your  daughter." 

"  Live  for  her !  I'd  serve  her  best  by  dying  for  her  I " 

"  She  woxdd  not  think  so." 

"  No,"  cried  the  sick  man  with  a  burst  of  emotion,  sobs 
that  shook  his  frame,  and  tears  for  which  when  stronger 
he  would  have  blushed  ;  "  she  loves  me !  she  beheves  in 
me !  and  come  what  may,  here  or  hereafter,  nothing  can 
rob  me  of  the  fourteen  years  of  happiness  and  redemption 
she  has  given  me.    May  God  reward  her." 

"  Amen,"  said  Glynn,  softly.  "  I  think  you  have  talked 
enough  ;  I  will  be  ready  for  your  friend  on  Monday.  How 
shall  I  know  her  ?  " 

"  She  shall  bring  a  word,  a  line.     Settle  it  with  Elsie." 

"  May  I  come  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  manage  it  safely !  The  one  man  that 
must  not  find  me  is  Deering,  and  he  is  spending  a  fortune 
tracking  me." 

"  This  is  most  extraordinary." 

"  I  dare  say  it  seems  so." 

*'  May  I  put  any  question  to  Miss  Lambert  ?  " 

"  As  many  as  you  like  ;  but  she  knows  very  little." 


138  AT  BAT. 

Here  tliere  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  Elsie  entered, 
"I  think  I  must  ask  you  to  come  away,"  she  said. 

"  I  fear  I  have  stayed  too  long,"  returned  Glynn. 

"  "Will  you  come  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Yes,  without  fail ;  at  the  same  time." 

Then  followed  a  delightful  half-hour  with  Elsie,  who 
gave  him  a  cup  of  tea  in  the  sitting-room  below. 

"  I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  my  father's  reasons,"  she  said 
in  repty  to  his  queries.  "  I  have  simply  obeyed  him,  for  I 
am  sure  there  is  some  great  necessity',  and  he  promises  to 
explain  all  to  me  later.  I  cannot  describe  the  state  of 
desj^air  my  father  gets  into  occasionally  ;  his  terror  at  the 
idea  of  our  being  discovered !  but  now,  perhaps,  he  will 
tell  you !     You  will  come  again,  wiQ  you  not  ?  " 

"I  shall  come  to-morrow." 

"I  am  so  glad,  so  glad."  Her  voice  trembled  ;  she 
strove  to  keep  her  self-control ;  then  resting  her  elbows 
on  the  table,  she  covered  her  face  in  her  hands  and  burst 
into  in-epr-essible  tears. 

"  It  has  been  all  so  terrible,"  she  sobbed  ;  "  this  conceal- 
ment, this  fear  of  I  know  not  what ;  this  shameful  chang- 
ing from  one  home  to  another.  Shall  we  never  be  free 
and  happy  again  ?  " 

"You  shall,  you  must,"  whispered  Glynn.  "Your 
father  exaggerates  his  troubles,  I  am  sm-e  ;  he  has 
promised  to  tell  me  everything,  and  I  wiU  never  leave 
him  till  he  is  reinstated.  You  can  not  live  on  under  such 
horrible  conditions." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TH3:  SECRET   OF   THE   PRISON   HOUSE. 

It  was  many  a  month  since  Glynn  enjoyed  such  refresh- 
ing sleep  as  soothed  his  weary  brain  that  night.  To  liave 
found  Elsie  safe,  unharmed,  even  though  surrounded  by  a 
haze  of  doubtful  circumstances,  of  painful  mystery,  was  a 
bleased  relief.  AU  must  turn  out  well,  while  Elsie  was  the 
same,  untouched,  unchanged. 

To  him  she  seemed  more  charming  in  her  grief  and 
terror  than  in  the  freshness  of  her  beauty,  which  first 
attracted  him.  Though  fuU  of  passion,  his  love  was  pure 
and  true.  To  save  its  object  from  harm,  or  spare  her 
suffering,  he  would  even  sacrifice  himself.  Something  in 
the  unconsciousness  of  her  manner,  her  look,  her  words, 
warned  him  to  keep  the  lover  in  the  background  for  the 
present, — only  for  the  present, — for  deep  in  his  heart  he 
registered  a  vow  to  win  her  if  tenderness,  and  loyalty,  and 
perseverance  could.  'He  counted  the  cost,  and  decided 
that  in  Avinning  lier  he  should  win  all  that  would  make  life 
worth  hving.  Glynn  was  not  a  conventional  man.  He 
liked  society,  but  was  not  its  slave.  A  quiet  home,  with 
such  a  companion,  what  could  be  a  fairer  lot?  Would 
the  day  ever  come  when  she  would  let  him  hold  her  to 
his  heart,  when  her  soft  arms  would  steal  round  his  neck, 
and  her  sweet,  sad,  tremulous  Hps  retvuTi  his  kisses? 
Whatever  Lambert's  circumstances,  misdeeds,  crimes, 
Glynn  resolved  to  give  his  life  to  the  tender,  blameless 
daughter. 

He  started  in  good  time  next  day,  and  spent  a  long,  en- 
trancing, disturbing  afternoon  with  Elsie  and  her  father. 

With  the  latter  he  had  not  much  private  conversation, 
and  in  that  little  Lambert  told  him  he  had  discovered 
early  in  their  renewed  acquaintanceship  that  Deering  had 
fallen  in  love  with  Elsie,  that  he  knew  liira  to  be  a  daring 
and  unscrupulous  man,  and  that,  moreover,  he  had  a  very 


140  AT  BAT. 

strong  hold  over  Lambert  himself,  which  made  it  exceed- 
ingly difl&cult  to  protect  his  daughter,  without  running  cer- 
tain risks,  and  to  cut  the  gordian  knot,  he  determined  to 
hide  her.  This  was  so  far  successful,  but  the  conviction  that 
it  was  impossible  to  keep  ujp  the  game  was  pressing  on 
him,  and  with  the  consciousness  of  failing  health,  almost 
drove  him  mad. 

"  May  I  dine  with  you  tete-a-tete  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row ?  I  have  much  to  tell."  This  request  reached  Lady 
Gethin  one  morning  at  breakfast,  and  threw  her  into  a 
state  of  delighted  anticipation.  She  despatched  a  warm 
invitation,  and  wrote  to  decHne  one  or  two  engagements 
for  that  day. 

"  You  are  looking  a  different  being,"  she  said,  when 
they  had  settled  into  their  places  for  a  long  talk  after  din- 
ner. "But  what  has  become  of  you?  I  have  not  seen 
you  for  the  last  ten  days.  What  have  you  been  about  ? 
Have  you  found  your  young  woman  ?  " 

GljTin  looked  straight  at  her,  and  to  her  amazement  re- 
plied', "I  have." 

"  Toa  are  not  serious.  Here  ?  in  famous  London 
town?" 

"  I  have." 

"  WeU,  I  always  said  you  would.  Do  tell  me  all  about 
it." 

And  Glynn  began  at  the  beginning,  and  did  teU  her 
everything. 

"  This  is  indeed  extraordiaary ! "  she  exclaimed  with 
unusual  gravity,  at  the  end  of  his  narrative.  "  But  after 
all,  they  have  told  you  very  httle  ;  there  is  some  ugly 
secret  behind." 

"  I  suspect  there  is,"  very  gravely. 

"  Now  that  you  have  found  your  fair  Helen,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  with  her  ?  "  adced  Lady  Gethin,  looking 
sharply  at  him. 

"  Marry  her,"  was  the  unhesitating  reply. 

"  Good  heavens,  Hugh  I  you  are  not  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  Very  much  in  eai'nest,  I  assure  you." 

"  But  your  future  father-in-law  may  be  a  murderer." 

"But  my  future  wife  is  not  a  murderess." 

**  Not  yet " — emphatically.     "  Bemember,  crime  is  often 


THE   SECRET   OF   THE    PRISON    HOUSE.  141 

hereditary.  I  never  heard  of  such  madness.  "Why,  you 
will  spoil  your  life." 

"  It  would  be  ruined  without  her." 

"  And  while  the  noble  father  is  taken  to  Newgate,  the 
happy  pair  will  start  for  the  Continent  and  return  in 
time  for  the  execution  !  I  could  shed  tears  over  you, 
Hugh." 

"  Instead  of  hurting  your  eyes,  do  me  a  very  great  fa- 
vor. Come  with  me  to-morrow,  and  let  me  introduce 
you  to  Miss  Lambert." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind !  How  can  you  expect 
me  to  encourage  you  in  such  insanity  ?  " 

"  Because  your  encouragement  or  discouragement  will 
not  affect  my  decision.  I  have  a  sincere  respect  for  your 
opinion ;  you  are  a  shrewd,  far-seeing  woman,  and  I 
think  your  view  of  the  case  perfectly  natural,  but  I  feel 
that  my  wisest  covirse  in  this  instance  is  to  throw  pru- 
dence overboard.  Do,  my  dear  aunt,  grant  me  this  peti- 
tion !  I  am  old  enough  to  take  the  responsibility  of  any 
step  upon  myself,  and  I  have  no  near  relative  to  consider. 
Be  my  friend  in  this  crisis ;  come  and  see  the  girl  who 
has  di'awn  me  to  her  so  magnetically ;  help  me  to  save 
her,  for  as  she  possesses  my  soiil  I  am  resolved  to  give 
her  my  Hfe." 

"I  protest,  Hugh,  you  are  a  lover  worth  having.  I 
hope  she  values  you  as  you  deserve." 

"  I  do  not  think  she  has  an  idea  I  am  a  lover." 

"  Then  you  have  not  asked  her  to  marry  you  ?  '  cried 
Lady  Gethin,  visibly  brightening. 

"  I  have  not  ventured  as  yet ;  I  am  trying  to  prepare 
the  way." 

"  Then,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  "  I  will  come,  and  you  must 
agree  to  listen  to  any  objections  which  may  occur  to  me, 
rationally,  without  snapping  my  nose  off,  because  I  shall 
see  things  which  would  never  strike  you." 

"  Agreed. ' 

"  When  shall  I  go  ?  "  resumed  Lady  Gathin.  "  I  con- 
fess I  am  dying  to  see  this  lady-love  of  yours,  this  heroine 
of  a  still  unsolved  mystery.     May  I  go  to-morrow  ?  " 

Gl_>Tin  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it.  "  Thank  you,"  was 
all  he  said,  but  there  was  that  in  his  voice  which  made  a 
troublesome  lump  rise  in  Lady  Gethin's  throat. 


142"  AT  BAT. 

This  entire  and  disinterested  devotion  touched  her  in- 
finitely, and  gave  her  an  instant's  glimpse  of  the  loveliness 
life  might  have  if  tenderness  and  loyalty  and  self -forget- 
ful generosity  could  only  share  and  share  ahke,  with 
science,  statistics,  and  pohtical  economy. 

"  Not  to-morrow,"  resumed  GljTin  after  a  pause.  "  I  must 
give  Lambert  warning,  for  he  is  very  nervous  about  any 
one  coming  near  him.  He  is  so  possessed  by  the  idea  that 
he  is  being  watched.  It  is  an  awful  feeling,  I  had  no  con- 
ception what  it  is  until  I  saw  a  man  under  its  influence.  I 
will  settle  with  him  and  Elsie  when  they  shall  receive  you. 
At  present  I  am  not  quite  so  uneasy  about  them,  for  Deer- 
ing  is  out  of  town.  I  am  afraid  he  has  some  very  strong 
hold  on  Lambert." 

"  Deering  is  not  out  of  town  ;  I  saw  him  at  the  opera 
last  night." 

"Lideed!"  Then  after  a  pause,  "It  is  amazing  how 
Lambert  has  escaped  detection  so  far,  but  it  is  inevitable. 
Why  he  dreads  it,  and  what  he  is  afraid  of,  remains  to  be 
told.  I  think  he  is  longing  to  tell,  yet  dreads  to  do  so, 
which  is  inconsistent  with  his  assertion  that  he  has  broken 
no  law." 

*'  Hugh,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  "  I  wish  you  would  give 
me  a  promise,  not  to  declare  yourself  to  Miss  Lambert 
until  you  know  the  whole  truth." 

"  No,  Lady  Gethin,  I  will  not  pledge  myself  to  any- 
thing," returned  Glynn,  smiling;  and  soon  after  he  took 
his  leave. 

Things  were  looking  brighter,  he  thought.  If  Lambert 
would  only  make  a  clean  breast,  something  definite  might 
be  arranged. 

The  next  day,  glad  of  an  excuse  to  present  himself  at 
Garston  Terrace,  Glynn  was  making  his  way  towards  one 
of  the  MetropoUtan  stations,  when  he  met  Deeiing  coming 
to  the  office. 

"  I  was  going  to  call  on  you,"  he  said. 

"  Sorry  I  cannot  go  back  with  you,"  returned  Glynn, 
"  but  I  have  a  special  engagement  You  will  find  Mercer, 
which  will  answer  your  purpose  even  better." 

"  No  doubt.  By  the  way,  do  you  ever  hear  anything  of 
the  Lambert  business  ?  "  looking  searchingly  at  him. 

"  Never,"  said  Glynn  steadily. 


THE   SECKET   OF   THE   PEISON    HOUSE.  143 

"  And  I  presume  you  take  no  further  interest  in  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  get  to  the 
bottom  of  that  affair,"  and  Glynn  returned  Deering's  gaze 
with  equal  keenness. 

"Are  you  so  ignorant,  then ? "  asked  Deering  with  a 
sneer.  "  Well,  I  heard  this  morning  from  a  man  I  have 
employed  (for  I  confess  I  am  determined  to  track  that 
scoundrel  Lambei-t),  that  those  stupid  Yankee  detectives 
have  been  on  a  false  scent  altogether.  The  man  they  have 
been  following  proves  not  to  be  Lambert,  and  they  now 
suspect  that  while  they  have  been  dodging  his  double  at 
St.  Louis  and  other  places,  the  real  man  has  escaped  to 
Canada.     But  he  is  certain  to  be  found." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Glynn,  with  such  equanimity 
that  Deering's  brows  contracted,  and  he  nodded  a  hasty 
adieu. 

"  I  wonder  how  the  mistake  arose,"  thought  Glynn,  as 
he  strode  along;  "  but  having  found  it  out  I  fear  they  may 
get  on  the  right  track." 

He  took  a  longer  detour  than  usual  before  approaching 
his  goal.  Arrived  there,  he  found  Elsie  waiting  to  see  the 
doctor  after  his  visit  to  her  father. 

She  looked  very  anxious.  His  nights,  she  said,  were  so 
feverish  and  restless  that  it  was  impossible  he  could  make 
any  real  progress.  Sometimes  he  was  quite  cheerful;  then 
the  cloud  of  nervous  depression  would  settle  down  upon 
him,  and  nothing  seemed  to  rouse  or  cheer  him. 

Glynn  took  care  to  speak  to  the  doctor  himself,  and  he 
gave  the  same  account.  He  said  the  bronchial  attack  was 
cured,  but  an  extraordinary  degree  of  mental  depression 
continued.  Was  Glynn  aware  of  any  hereditary  tendency 
in  that  direction,  which  might  account  for  much?  It 
might  be  well  to  have  a  second  opinion,  but  Mr.  Lambert 
was  so  averse  to  call  in  any  other  medical  man,  he  did  not 
like  to  press  it,  etc.,  etc. 

As  soon  as  he  had  gone  Glynn  was  summoned  to  the 
invalid,  who  was  more  than  usually  querulous  and  uneasy, 
until  his  visitor  broached  the  subject  of  Lady  Gethin's 
visit,  describing  her  as  the  embodiment  of  all  Lambert 
desired  in  the  shape  of  a  female  friend  for  Elsie.  Her 
father  caught  at  the  idea,  but  shrunk  from  his  friend's 
proposition  that  he  should  be  presented  to  her  by  his  real 
luune. 


144  AT  BAY. 

"  Believe  me,  Lambert,"  said  Glyim  impressively,  "  it  is 
useless  to  hope  you  can  remain  concealed  much  longer. 
If  you  would  tell  me  all,  I  might  be  able  to  advise  you;  at 
present  I  cannot  for  want  of  knowledge." 

"  WeU,  look  here,  then,"  said  Lambert,  after  a  minute 
or  two  of  profound  thought,  "  you  bring  this  lady  to  us; 
let  her  see  what  a  sweet,  elegant  creature  my  Elsie  is; 
maybe  she  will  take  a  fancy  to  her.  I'd  like  to  see  this 
aunt  of  yours  too,  Glynn;  and  as  the  doctor  says  I  am  to 
change  the  air  and  scene,  I'm  going  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  to-morrow,  so  let  her  come  the  day  after.  I'll  put 
on  my  coat,  and  get  myself  shaved,  then  I'll  be  fit  to  be 
seen.  Do  you  think  she  will  come  the  day  after  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  she  will.  She  cannot  fail  to  be  charmed 
with  Miss  Lambert,  and  may  be  a  yery  useful  friend." 

"  Then  bring  her,  in  God's  name,"  ejacvdated  Lambert, 
leaning  back  wearily  ;  and  Glynn,  seeing  he  was  inclined 
to  sleep,  stole  quietly  away  to  Elsie's  sitting-room  down- 
stairs. 

He  found  Mrs.  Kellett  with  her,  and  on  hearing  him 
say  that  he  thought  her  father  was  sleeping,  Elsie  went 
away  to  see  if  he  was  wrapped  up  and  comfortable,  and 
for  a  minute  or  two  Glynn  felt  at  a  loss  what  to  say  to 
Mrs.  KeUett. 

She  was  a  tall,  thin,  dark-eyed  woman,  with  grey  hair, 
high  cheek-bones,  and  a  severe  expression  ;  but  her  smile 
was  kind,  her  eyes  steady  and  honest.  She  spoke  very 
little,  and  her  manner  was  giiarded.  Glynn  had  been 
favorably  impressed  on  the  only  occasion  when  he  had 
met  her — their  visit  to  the  stock-broker's,  and  the  transfer 
of  Elsie's  money  to  Glynn's  care. 

"  I  find  Miss  Lambert  by  no  means  so  well  as  I  should 
like  to  see  her,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  No,  sir ;  and  I  am  surprised  she  looks  so  well.  Her 
life  has  been  a  very  trying  one  for  many  months." 

"  I  has.    I  trust  its  trials  will  soon  be  over." 

"  There  seems  little  prospect  of  that  unless  Mr.  Lambert 
will  speak." 

"  As  an  old  friend,  Mrs.  Kellett,  you  ought  to  beg  him 
to  explain  his  position,  or,  if  the  effort  be  too  painful  for 
turn,  to  let  you  do  it  for  him." 


THE   SECRRT   OF   TUE   PRISON   HOUSE.  145 

"  But  I  do  not  know  the  whole  story ! "  said  Mrs.  Kellett. 
"  It  is  fourteen  years  since  he  gave  that  dear  child  into 
my  care,  and  though  I  always  suspected  he  had  a  history, 
and  a  strange  one,  I  never  knew  it.  He  has  always  been 
a  loving  father,  a  just  and  generous  paymaster.  I  know 
no  more." 

**  It  is  the  strangest  case  I  have  heard  of,"  Glynn  was 
beginning,  when  Elsie  returned, 

"  He  is  sleeping  quite  peacefully,"  she  said,  "  and  he 
needs  rest  terribly." 

"  Then  I  must  not  stay  longer,"  said  Mrs.  Kellett,  "  and 
I  dare  not  come  soon  again.  When  I  write  it  will  be  as 
usual  under  cover  to  your  landlady." 

She  said  good-bye  to  Glynn.  Elsie  followed  her  into 
the  hall  to  speak  some  last  words,  and  then  returning,  sat 
down  on  a  low  couch  near  the  fire,  and  clasping  her  hands 
on  her  knee,  gazed  in  dreamy  silence  at  the  glowing  coals. 
Glynn,  who  stood  leaning  against  the  mantel-piece,  waited 
and  watched;  the  stillness,  the  loneliness,  the  isolation  from 
aU  who  had  well  known  them,  thriUed  him  with  a  strange 
sense  of  deHcious  power.  Suddenly  she  said  very  softly, 
as  if  to  herself  : 

"  It  will  soon  be  a  year  since  that  day." 

"What  day?"  asked  Glynn. 

"  The  day  you  came  and  dined  with  us  at  the  Cafe  de 
Madrid, — do  you  remember?" 

"  It  is  constantly  in  my  thoughts  ;  it  is  one  of  my  most 
dehghtful  memories !  Do  you  know,"  coming  and  sitting 
down  beside  her,  "  that  when  I  lie  awake  at  night  I  recall 
the  airs  you  sang  that  night,  and  hear  again  your  delicious 
tones ! " 

"We  were  so  happy  then — at  least  I  was." 

"  And  I  was,"  echoed  Glynn.  "  I  did  not  know  how 
hai^py,  until  the  misery  of  losing  you  taught  me.  Do  you 
know  that  the  horror  of  the  whole  thing  nearly  killed  me  ? 
I  had  brain  fever " 

"  Had  you ! "  cried  Elsie,  looking  at  him  in  great,  sincere 
surprise.  "It  was  very  good  of  you  to  care  so  much! 
My  father  never  said  you  tried  to  find  me !  " 

"Why  do  you  look  so  astonished?"  he  asked. 

"  Because —    Oh,  I  shall  tell  you  some  day  when  I  fee) 
happier  and  braver. " 
10 


1*6  AT   BAY. 

"  The  lady  I  am  going  to  bring  here  the  day  after  to- 
morrow will  tell  you  how  iU  I  was.  Siie  was  very  kind, 
and  helped  to  nui'se  me.     She  is  a  sort  of  auut  of  mine." 

"  If  she  took  care  of  you  I  shall  like  her.  You  have 
been  such  a  true  friend  to  my  father,"  cried  Elsie,  with 
sudden  warmth,  and  stretching  out  her  hand  she  placed 
it  in  his. 

GljTin  was  greatly  surprised,  and  not  altogether  pleased 
by  her  extreme  unconsciousness,  but  he  gently  retained 
the  hand  for  a  moment  while  she  went  on — 

"  Is  it  quite  safe  her  coming  here  ?  I  do  not  under- 
stand our  extraordinai-y  position,  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
our  hiding-place  is  becoming  too  generally  known.  Does 
the  lady  know  we  are  hunted  fugitives  ?  " 

"  She  does,  and  I  will  answer  for  her  good  faith." 

"  There  must  be  some  very  strong  reason  for  my 
father's  strange  life !  "  and  she  lapsed  into  thought. 

Then  they  spoke  again  of  Lady  Gethin,  and  the  extra- 
ordinary chance  which  had  brought  tliem  together.  At 
last  he  was  obliged  to  tear  himself  away.  He  never  left 
her  without  an  unspeakable  pang,  a  dread  of  some  crime 
being  committed  before  he  saw  her  again. 

The  dusk  of  a  blustering  March  evening  was  deepen- 
ing, and  Elsie  was  struck  by  the  minute  directions  he 
gave  the  old  landlady  to  fasten  the  shutters,  and  lock  the 
doors,  to  admit  no  stranger,  and  put  out  the  lights  early. 

"  You  are  as  fearful  as  my  father,"  she  said  ;  "  but  I 
think  we  are  very  safe  in  this  quiet  neighborhood." 

"  Good-night.  I  suppose  I  must  not  come  to-morrow  ? 
Well,  the  day  after  I  will  with  Lady  Gethin.  If  you  want 
me  in  any  way,  telegraph." 

Glynn  was  surprised  to  find  Lady  Gethin  not  only 
ready,  but  in  a  state  of  impatient  expectancy  when  he 
reached  her  house  on  the  day  appointed. 

"  I  suppose  my  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance  would  con- 
sider me  insane  if  they  knew  I  was  thus  encouraging  you 
in  so  wild  a  project,"  she  said,  as  she  took  Glynn's  arm  to 
go  down-stairs. 

"  That  can  be  of  small  consequence  to  you." 

"Hum!  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  looked  upon  as  an 
idiotic  old  woman.    However,  I  am  dying  to  get  to  the 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE   PKISON   HOUSE.  147 

bottom  of  this  mysterious  aJBfair,  that's  the  truth.  As  to 
you — you  are  past  praying  for." 

"  Not  past  returning  thanks  for,  I  hope,"  said  Glynn,  as 
he  handed  her  into  her  brougham,  and  told  the  coachman 
to  drive  to  Euston  Square  station.  Arrived  there.  Lady 
Gethin  said  she  would  not  require  the  caniage  again,  as 
Mr.  Glynn  would  see  her  home  ;  and  as  soon  as  they 
reached  the  arrival  platform  they  took  a  cab  and  drove 
to  within  an  easy  walking  distance  of  Garston  Terrace. 

"  I  never  was  so  far  north  before,"  said  Lady  Gethin, 
looking  about  her  with  interest.  "  It  does  not  seem  a 
very  lively  place.  How  long  has  this  poor  girl  been  shut 
up  here  ?  " 

"  She  has  been  secluded  altogether  for  nearly  nine  or 
ten  months.  It  is  time  this  persecution  were  over  ;  a 
little  courage  and  candor  would  soon  put  an  end  to  it." 

"Nice  old  woman,"  ejaculated  Lady  Gethin,  as  Mrs. 
Ritson,  the  landlady,  opened  the  door  and  droj)ped  a 
cirrtsey. 

"  Walk  in,  please,"  she  said,  and  ushered  them  into  a 
small  front  room,  ftimished  as  a  salle  d  manger. 

Lady  Gethin  immediately  took  a  tour  of  inspection. 
"  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  this  doesn't  look  quite  like  a 
lodging,"  she  said,  sitting  down  suddenly.  "  I  don't 
think  that  old  woman  furnished  this." 

"  I  suspect  you  are  on  the  look-out  for  mysteries," 
Glynn  began,  when  Elsie  came  in,  dressed  in  her  ordi- 
nary costume  of  black,  with  a  little  scarf  of  fine  creamy 
lace  round  her  throat,  and  a  bunch  of  daffodils  beside  it. 

The  excitement  of  seeing  a  stranger  had  brought  a 
little  color  to  her  cheek,  and  as  she  stood  still  for  a  mo- 
ment of  graceful  hesitation,  Glynn's  heart  throbbed  with 
tenderness  and  pride,  and  he  thought  it  must  puzzle 
Lady  Gethin  to  find  fault  with  so  fair  a  creature.  He 
turned  to  read  her  opinion  in  her  countenance.  She  was 
gazing  at  Elsie  with  a  curious  expression  of  startled  sur- 
prise, almost  of  recognition,  and  seemed  too  absorbed  to 
remember  the  ordinary  observances  of  a  first  intro- 
duction. 

"I  have  brought  my  aunt,  Lady  Gethin,  to  see  you, 
Miss  Lanxbert,^  said  Glynn,  shaking  hands  with  her. 

"  She  \»  yQTj  kind  to  come,"  returned  Elsie,  with  a 


148  AT  BAY. 

slight  pretty  curtsey,  expressive  of  respect  to  the  age  and 
position  of  her  visitor. 

"  And  I  am  very  glad  I  came,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  ris- 
ing and  holding  out  her  hand,  gravely,  but  cordially. 
"  IVIr.  Glynn's  interest  in  yoiu-  father  and  yourself  has  in- 
duced me  to  offer  a  visit,  even  though  not  quite  sure  it 
■will  be  acceptable." 

"  Oh,  yesl  it  is  most  acceptable,"  cried  Elsie,  her  eyes 
filling  with  tears,  and  f eeUng  sti-angely  fascinated  by  Lady 
Gethin's  gaze. 

"I  am  pleased  to  think  so,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  with 
more  of  her  usual  manner,  as  she  resumed  her  seat. 

''  In  a  few  minutes  my  father  will  be  ready  to  receive 
you,  if  you  will  be  so  very  good  as  to  visit  him — he  has 
been  so  ill !  " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  I  want  to  see  him  very  mucL  You 
do  not  look  particularly  well  yoiu'self !  too  much  confine- 
ment in  a  sick-room,  I  sujipose."  A.  pause  and  long 
searching  look. 

"  I  have  gone  out  verj'  little  for  months." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  dear,  you  will  think  me  an  intrusive 
old  woman,  but  what  is  yoiu'  name  ?  Elsie,  Elsie  !  that 
is  quite  strange  to  me.  Do  you  remember  your  mother 
at  all?" 

"  No — that  is,  like  a  faint,  far-away  dream  !  " 

*'  What  was  her  name  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  was  called  after  her.  I  never  speak  about 
her,  for  my  father  cannot  bear  it.  His  sorrow  must  have 
been  grea"^ " 

"I  suppose  so — I  suppose  so,"  thoughtfully.  "You 
■will  forgive  my  abruptness,  I  am  not  asking  from  idle 
curiosity." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive."  Here  the  tinkle  of  a  bell 
was  heard.  "  My  father  is  ready  ;  ■will  you  come  ?  "  said 
Elsie,  rising.  She  conducted  them  into  the  drawing-room, 
where  Lambert,  shaved  and  smartened  up,  sat  in  his  large 
chair,  which  had  been  brought  down-stairs  ;  a  few  flowers 
and  some  books  gave  an  inhabited  air  to  the  room,  while 
the  exquisite  neatness  of  the  invalid  and  his  surroundings 
bespoke  loving  care. 

Lady  Gethin's  quick  eye  noted  everything.  Lambert 
brightened  a  little  as  he  thanked  her  vntii  simple  coiirtesy 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  PRISON   HOUSE.  149 

for  her  visit.  Glynn  saw  that  she  scrutinized  him  with 
profound  attention,  and  drew  him  out  rather  than  spoke 
to  him. 

Glynn  himself  had  various  matters  to  speak  of  with 
Elsie,  who  looked  more  like  what  she  had  been  in  Paris 
than  she  had  since  they  had  met  again. 

After  some  little  time  Lady  Gethin  turned  to  Elsie  and 
said,  gravely,  "  Will  you  forgive  me,  my  dear  young  lady, 
if  I  ask  you  to  leave  me  with  your  father  and  Mr. 
Gl^Tin?  I  have  one  or  two  matters  to  speak  of."  She 
paused. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Elsie,  rising  ;  "  you  wiU  send  for  me 
when  you  want  me,"  and  with  a  smiling,  wondering  look 
at  Glynn,  she  left  the  room. 

The  door  being  closed,  Lady  Gethin,  turning  to  Lam- 
bei't,  said,  "  At  the  risk  of  awakening  j^ainful  memories  I 
must  ask  you  a  few  questions !  Your  daughter  so  resembles 
a  dear  friend,  or  rather  one  who  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine 
long  ago,  that  I  cannot  refrain.  Pray  has  she  any  rela- 
tions named  Acton  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lambert,  eyeing  her  suspiciously  ;  "  she  has 
no  relation  in  the  world  but  myself." 

"  She  must  have  some  others,  Captain  Lambert ! "  per- 
sisted Lady  Gethin.  "  Strange  ideas  rise  in  my  mind, 
coupling  the  Hkeness  with  Deering's  efforts  to  find  her. 
The  friend  Miss  Lambei*t  resembles,  and  whose  daughter 
she  might  be,  was  Isabel  Acton,  who  married  Gilbert 
Deering  against  the  will  of  her  people,  and  went  away 
with  him  abroad,  where  she  died." 

"  My  God ! "  cried  Lambert,  turning  ghastly  white, 
"  this  is  incredible  !  "  He  remained  silent  for  a  minute, 
his  hands  clasping  and  unclasping  the  arms  of  his  chair, 
his  mouth  twitching,  some  strong  emotion  evidently  work- 
ing within  him.  "  Ring  the  bell !  "  he  said  at  length  to 
Glynn.  "  Get  me  some  brandy-and- water.  I  will  tell  you 
my  whole  story,  and  I'll  want  something  to  help  me 
through.  You  look  like  a  strong,  good  woman.  Lady 
Gethin.  You  will  not  turn  against  my  girl,  though  her 
father  has  been  a  bit  of  a  blackguard  in  his  time." 

"  I  wiU  not,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  stoutly. 

*'  Do  you  wish  me  to  leave  you  ?  "  asked  Glynn. 

"  No  ',  my  confession  is  as  much  for  you  as  for  my  lady 


150  AT  BAT. 

here."  He  paused  wliile  the  servant  placed  the  brandy- 
and- water  beside  him.  "  I  must  go  a  long  way  back,"  he 
resumed,  when  she  had  left  the  room.  "  It  was  about  fif- 
teen years  ago  when,  after  knocking  about  in  Texas  and 
California,  I  found  myself  at  Chih  in  a  very  low  condition, 
both  as  to  money  and  prospects.  Just  at  that  time  a  rail- 
way had  been  begun  by  a  clever  adventurer  who  had  been 
kicked  out  of  'Frisco,  but  persuaded  the  Government  of 
ChUi  to  take  up  liis  scheme.  This  railway  was  to  a  vOlage 
up  in  the  mountains,  in  the  middle  of  a  lich  mineral  dis- 
trict, teeming  with  wealth.  The  difficulty  was  to  find 
ready  money  to  pay  current  expenses ;  they  were  never 
more  than  a  week  ahead  of  the  men's  wages.  To  provide 
for  this  outlay,  Jeafferson,  the  Yankee  promoter,  got  to- 
gether three  or  fotu'  gamblers  to  meet  the  men  at  the  vil- 
lage where  they  were  jDaid,  and  Avin  back  the  cash  just 
given  out,  and  have  it  ready  by  the  next  pay-day.  I  was 
one  of  these  fine  gentlemen,"  bitterly.  "  We'  had  a  per- 
centage on  ovir  winnings,  and  lots  of  food  and  drink  at 
the  bars,  kept  by  the  company, — ^that  is,  Jeafferson.  It  is 
curious  how  little  I  minded  it  all  then,  and  what  a  rascally 
business  it  seems  now !  Among  the  employes  there  was  a 
certain  Deering,  a  cold,  stem  Englishman,  an  engineer. 
He  was  a  silent,  self-possessed  fellow,  proud  and  plucky 
as  the  devil.  We  all  hated  him,  for  he  looked  down  on 
us.  He  seemed  to  see  tlirough  the  gambling  scheme  ;  he 
was  always  interfering,  and  warning  the  men  against  us, 
and  making  enemies  on  both  sides.  He  had  had  a  wife 
with  him,  but  she  was  dead.  I  never  saw  her."  He 
paused.  Both  Lady  Gethin  and  Glynn  drew  a  httle  nearer 
with  breathless  interest. 

"  Well,"  resumed  Lambert,  "  one  night  I  met  Deering 
in  a  hotel  in  Lima  with  a  tall  Enghshman  not  unlike  him- 
self, only  fair,  with  whom  he  was  talking  over  a  bottle  of 
wine  ;  and  they  had  papers  and  money  Ijing  on  the  table 
between  them.  They  seemed  greatly  occupied  with  their 
conversation.  I  had  had  a  hard  ride,  and  a  hard  diink 
(I  did  drink  then),  and  I  couldn't  resist  trying  to  get  up  a 
quarrel  with  Deering,  so  I  broke  in  on  him  and  his  friend 
and  offered  to  stake  as  much  as  lay  there  and  p]ay  him 
for  the  whole  at  poker,  euchre,  anjlhing  he  hked.  He 
answered  me  contemptuously,  and  rising,  left  the  room.   I 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  PEISON  HOUSE.  151 

was  in  an  awful  fury,  and  swore  that  I'd  have  his  life,  and 
a  deal  more.  The  tall  friend  who  remained  laughed 
and  taunted  me,  and  gave  me  more  diink,  so  we 
gi'ew  a  bit  familiar.  The  upshot  was,  I  went  to  see 
Jiim  in  his  private  room  ;  there  we  got  abusing 
Deering  to  dirt,  and  I  swore  I'd  have  his  life. 
When  this  man  had  hstened  awhile,  says  he  :  'If 
you  are  in  earnest,  I  know  a  party  as  would  give  a  bigger 
pile  than  that '  (meaning  the  money  that  bad  been  on  the 
table)  'to know  that  he  was  safe  under  the  sod,  and  not 
only  the  serpent  but  the  spawn  to  ;  for,'  says  he,  '  he  has 
a  ciaUd,  who  may  prove  worse  than  the  father.'  This 
sobered  me.  Ay,  you  may  look  hard  ;  it  had  an  ugly 
sound,  and  blackguard  as  I  had  been,  I  was  no  cowardly 
assassin."  He  stopped,  and  signed  to  Glynn  to  give  him 
some  brandy-and- water. 

"  I  parleyed  with  him  a  bit.  However,  I  could  get  little 
out  of  him,  except  that  there  was  a  good  sum  to  be  mine 
if  I  would  shoot  my  enemy.  Well,  I  kept  quiet.  I  felt 
somehow  desperately  disgusted,  and  all  my  fury  against 
Deering  began  to  die  away.  I  said  to  my  new  acquaint- 
ance, that  he  should  hear  from  me,  and  next  day  I 
mounted  my  horse,  and  rode  away  to  find  Deering  ;  not 
to  challenge  and  shoot  him,  but  to  warn  him  against  the 
treacherous  devil  that  was  thirsting  for  his  life.  It's  truth 
I'm  teUing  you.  Do  you  believe  me  ?  "  interrupting  him- 
self feverishly. 

"  I  do,"  said  Glynn,  earnestly. 

"  Pray  go  on,"  urged  Lady  Gethin. 

"Deering  lived  away  at  one  of  the  stations  in  the 
mountains,  an  awful  wild  place,  with  a  lot  of  Indians  and 
half-breeds  round  him  ;  the  railway  was  pushed  so  far, 
and  the  next  payments  were  to  be  made  there.  So  men 
were  busy  rigging  up  a  bar  and  a  gaming  saloon,  with  logs 
and  what  not,  when  I  rode  in.  Lord !  what  a  beautiful 
place  it  was !  Just  a  strip  of  heaven  peopled  by  fiends ! 
I  got  in  there  a  little  after  sundown  and  found  Deering 
kicking  up  no  end  of  a  row,  wanting  to  prevent  the  saloon 
being  finished  and  opened.  I  spoke  to  him,  as  I  hope — 
no  !  I  don't  hope  anything, — ^but  as  I  live,  full  of  the  best 
intentions.  I  asked  him  to  come  away  out  into  the  op'^'. 
with  me  a  bit.    There  I  tried  to  speak  friendly  to  him,  bc^t 


152  AT  BAT. 

it  was  no  use.  He  turned  on  me  and  abused  me  like  a 
pick-pocket,  for  one  of  a  gang  of  sbai'pers.  He  stung  me 
to  the  quick  ;  I  lost  all  control  of  myself,  and  pulling  out 
my  revolver,  I  challenged  him  to  fight  there  on  the  spot. 
He  said  something  about  ridding  the  place  of  a  pest.  Just 
then  a  boy — oh,  of  about  nineteen  or  twenty,  a  factotum 
of  Jeafferson's — came  uj).  We  both  asked  him  to  see  fair 
play.  O  God  !  it  was  soon  over !  He  fell  at  my  first  fire. 
I  had  winged  my  man  before,  and  didn't  mind  much. 
But  somehow  I  felt  sorry  for  him.  Vexed  with  myself,  1 
tlirew  away  my  revolver,  and  knelt  down  beside  him,  call- 
ing to  the  boy  to  help  ;  but  a  confused  sound  of  shouting 
and  a  loud  hum  came  from  the  village  or  camp,  and  the 
boy  said,  *  They  are  up  to  mischief  there,'  and  away  he 
ran.  Deering  seemed  to  hear  it ;  he  opened  his  eyes  and 
muttered  something — I  could  only  make  out  the  word 
*  destroy,*  Then  he  caught  my  hand,  and  with  a  despair- 
ing, imploring  look  in  his  eyes, — I  see  it  still, — groaned, 
'My  child — save  her.'  And  holding  his  hand,  I  swore  I'd 
take  care  of  her  so  long  as  I  had  breath.  He  pointed  to  a 
ring  on  his  little  finger,  and  muttered,  *  Take '  ;  then  ho 
said,  •  My  child,'  turned  sharp,  as  if  in  pain,  and  was  gone. 
I  took  the  ring  (I'll  show  it  to  you  presently),  then  I  made 
away  to  his  shanty.  The  devils  of  miners,  and  navvies, 
and  half-breeds  had  risen  to  revenge  themselves,  and  were 
wrecking  his  place.  One  fellow  called  out  that  there  was 
a  pile  of  money  in  the  house,  that  Deering  had  got  down 
in  the  town  yesterday.  The  lot  of  them  were  raging  like 
furies  and  had  just  set  fire  to  the  hut,  when  I  got  up. 
There  wasn't  a  sign  of  the  child.  I  hunted  through  the 
place.  The  men  all  thinking  I  was  dead  against  Deering, 
didn't  interfere  with  me.  At  last,  crouching  in  a  corner 
behind  a  door,  quite  stupefied  with  fear,  I  found  a  little 
golden-haired  darling,  of  three  or  four  years  old — aU 
alone." 

"  Had  she  no  nurse — or  did  the  nurse  forsake  her  ?  " 
asked  Lady  Gethin,  as  he  paused.  "  How  did  he  come  to 
keep  her  in  such  a  place  ?  " 

"  That  I  cannot  answer.  I  think  Deering  must  have 
been  desperately  poor,  or  he  woiild  not  have  taken  service 
with  Jeafferson.  Anyhow  I  took  the  child,  who  screamed 
at  me  in  an  agony  of  terror.     I  told  her  I  would  take  her 


THE   SECRET  OF  THB  PRISON    HOUSE.  153 

to  her  father.  I  wrapped  a  cloak  that  hung  on  the  wall 
round  her,  and  got  out.  She  was  quite  still — so  still  that 
I  feared  she  was  dead.  So  I  managed  to  saddle  Deer- 
ing's  horse,  which  was  fresh  ;  and  as  night  was  falling 
I  rode  away,  while  those  mad  devils  where  shouting  and 
dancing  round  the  burning  wreck."  He  stopped,  quite 
exhausted. 

"  You  had  better  not  go  on  now,"  said  Glynn.  "  I  be- 
gin to  understand  your  position.  Lady  Gethin  will,  I  am 
Biu'e,  return  to " 

"  I  must  go  on,"  interrupted  Lambert.  "  I  can't  rest  till 
I  have  finished  ;  and  there's  a  lot  more  to  tell." 

"  He  had  better  get  through  it,"  said  Lady  Gethin. 

"  When  I  got  down  to  Lima,  I  went  to  an  out-of-the- 
way  eatiiig-house,  where  I  sometimes  put  up  when  funds 
were  low.  The  woman  that  kept  it  was  a  good  soul  when 
sober.  I  got  her  to  take  care  of  the  child  for  a  day  and  a 
night.  She  didn't  ask  questions.  Then  I  thought  what 
to  do,  for  I  was  at  the  end  of  my  cash.  It  struck  me  as  a 
grand  *  i)loy,'  if  I  could  get  the  price  of  poor  Deering's 
life  out  of  the  long  fellow  at  the  hotel,  and  build  up  a  for- 
tune for  the  child.  So  I  went  to  him,  and  told  him  wbat 
had  happened,  and  a  good  deal  more — faith!  I  said  I 
found  the  child  suffocated  with  the  smoke,  and  just 
squeezed  my  hand  round  its  throat  to  make  sure.  He 
took  it  all  quite  eas}'.  '  You  are  a  handy  scoundrel,'  he 
said  ;  and  I  answered,  '  You  are  an  unhandy  one.  Now, 
are  you  going  to  keep  your  word,  and  give  me  over  what 
you  wouldn't  give  poor  Peering  ? ' 

"  '  What  he  wouldn't  take,'  says  he.  '  How  do  I  know 
you  are  speaking  truth  ? ' 

"  '  Send  and  see,'  said  I.  '  If  you  cheat  me,  I'll  raise  the 
hue  and  cry  against  you.' 

"  *  Who  will  believe  you  against  me  ? '  said  he  with  a 
sneer.  '  I  am  an  Englishman  of  unblemished  character. 
What  woidd  your  assertions  be  against  mine  ?  However, 
I  don't  want  to  cheat  you.     Come  here  to-morrow.' 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  the  woman  who  had  had 
the  care  of  the  child  came  roaring  and  citing  to  tliis 
man,  who  was  another  Deering, — he  never  disguised  his 
name, — and  said  the  child  had  been  killed,  or  at  any  rate 
burned  to  death,  and  Deering  was  killed  too  while  she 


154  AT  BAT. 

was  away,  taking  some  food  to  her  husband.  Anyhow 
that  long  devil  was  satisfied,  and  gave  me  the  money.  I 
must  huiTy  a  bit. 

"  I  had  agreed  to  quit  South  America,  and  so  I  took  a 
passage  to  Melbourne.  I  never  thought  the  child  would 
live  ;  she  pined  and  seemed  siUy.  There  was  a  good 
woman  on  board  the  vessel  we  sailed  in  who  took  to  my 
little  darling.  She  had  lost  her  baby  and  her  husband. 
He  was  the  skipper  of  a  ship  that  traded  between  San 
Francisco  and  Callao,  and  sometimes  to  Melbourne.  She 
was  wonderful  fond  of  Elsie.  I  called  her  Elsie  after  a 
Httle  sister  of  my  own  ;  I  never  knew  what  name  she  had 
been  christened.  This  good  woman  is  IMi's.  Kellett.  She 
was  going  to  join  a  sister  who  was  married  in  Melbourne, 
and  intended  getting  work  of  some  kind,  as  she  had  httle 
or  no  money. 

"  Well,  the  upshot  was,  that  she  agreed  to  take  charge 
of  Elsie.  I  paid  well ;  and  then  I  took  to  breaking  horses, 
then  I  bought  and  sold  them,  and  made  a  good  bit,  and 
saved — ^Lord,  how  I  saved!  I  left  off  drink, — two  glasses 
of  beer  in  the  day  was  my  allowance.  If  I  could  only 
make  up  to  that  chdd  for  i^iU  I  had  robbed  her  of ! — an<l 
she  began  to  know  me.  The  day  she  first  pat  her  little 
arms  round  my  neck,  and  stroked  my  face,  and  wouldn't 
let  me  go,  I  made  a  darned  fool  of  myself,  and  cried. 
Mrs.  Kellett,  not  understanding,  says,  '  She'll  be  as  sen- 
sible as  any  child  yet.'  Ah !  so  she  is.  One  time  I  wasn't 
lucky,  that  is,  I  got  next  to  nothing  for  myself,  for  I  kej)t 
the  profits  of  Elsie's  money  separate  from  my  own,  and 
it's  wonderful  how  everything  I  undeiiook  for  that  child 
prospered.  It  was  then  I  went  over  to  California,  an>l 
scraped  around  a  bit,  and  collected  gold-dust  and  nug- 
gets ;  some  I  bought,  some  I  dug  myself.  It  was  there  I 
fell  in  with  you,  Glynn.  I  seemed  a  penniless  adven- 
turer, didn't  I?  Aha,  my  boy! — ^I  had  nigh  a  thousand 
pounds'  worth  stitched  into  my  belt.  I  kept  out  a  little 
just  to  throw  away  and  keep  up  with  the  others,  but  did 
you  ever  see  me  forget  myself  in  drink  ?  " 

"I  was  always  struck  by  your  extreme  temperance," 
returned  Glynn. 

"  Ah  !  well,  those  were  happy  days,"  resumed  Lambert. 
"  After  that  spurt  I  went  back  to  Melbourne.     Presently 


THE   BECEET  OF  THE  PEISON   HOUSE.  155 

Mrs.  Kellett  wanted  to  go  home  ;  her  brother  had  come 
into  his  uncle's  farm  ;  he  was  a  widower,  with  a  lot  of 
boys,  and  wi'ote  for  his  sister  to  keep  his  house  ;  so.  I 
came  with  her,  and  saw  the  place,  and  left  my  precious 
child  there,  where  she  throve  hke  a  lily  for  near  five 
years.  I  settled  in  Paris,  always  working  her  money  and 
my  own  very  cautiously,  and  looking  forward  to  the  day 
she'd  come  and  take  care  of  her  father.  I  declare  to  God, 
I  used  to  forget  she  wasn't  my  own  child !  When  she 
was,  as  I  reckoned,  about  twelve,  I  put  her  into  the  con- 
vent, and  used  to  have  her  out  on  holidays.  She  never 
enjoyed  them  more  than  I  did,  and  she  grew  fonder  and 
fonder  of  me.  Then  I  made  a  snug  httle  nest  for  her, 
and  took  her  home  for  good.  Then  I  met  you,  Glynn,  and 
now  I'm  coming  to  the  trouble.  You  remember  Vincent. 
Well,  when  I  first  met  him  with  some  very  respectable 
Americans  in  Paris,  I  was  puzzled  with  the  notion  that  I 
had  seen  him  before,  and  I  told  him  so.  Then  he  grinned, 
and  s..i  1  he  was  the  boy  that  had  witnessed  my  duel  with 
Deering.  We  agreed  to  bury  the  past,  as  it  wasn't  ex- 
actly a  letter  of  recommendation.  I  wasn't  over-pleased 
witli  him,  but  lie  was  uncommon  civil,  and  used  to  come 
to  the  house,  and  I  got  accustomed  to  him.  Then  he 
proposed  for  Elsie,  and  I  i-efused  him  ;  still  he  hung  on, 
and  asked  a  second  time  ;  after  that  he  got  spiteful.  You 
know  all  about  tliat  time,  Glynn!  Wasn't  it  a  slice  out 
of  heaven  ?  It  didn't  last  long.  You  were  at  the  Davil- 
liers'  the  evening  I  came  in,  and  saw  Deering  talking  to 
my  Elsie,  and  looking  at  her.  By  Heaven,  I  understocd 
his  looks !  and  if  I  had  had  my  knife  in  my  belt,  as  in 
the  old  days,  he'd  have  looked  his  last.  I  thought  the 
sight  of  me  would  have  frightened  him." 

Lambert  paused,  and  lay  back  in  his  chair. 

"  Did  he  recognize  you  ? "  cried  Lady  Gethin  with 
breathless  interest. 

"  Ay,  that  he  did.  He  was  calm,  and  civil,  and  dam- 
nably superior,  and  came  the  next  day  to  call,  and  sat  talk- 
ing so  softly  and  elegantly  to  my  blessed  child.  At  last 
he  begged  for  a  private  interview  with  me, — said  he  had 
something  of  impoiiance  to  sf>v.  I  was  obliged  to  go  to  his 
hotel,  there  was  no  use  refusing."  Lambert  stopped,  took 
a  little  more  brandy-and-water,  drew  a  long  breath,  and 


156  AT   BAY. 

began  again.  "  As  soon  as  the  door  was  closed  he  asked  me 
to  come  up  by  his  writing-table.  Then  looking  straight 
at  me  he  exclaimed,  '  You  Hed  to  me.  You  did  not  strangle 
Gilbert  Deering's  infant !  I  recognized  the  girl's  likeness 
to  her  mother  at  the  first  glance.' 

"  '  What's  that  to  you  ? '  said  I.  '  There's  a  crime  the 
less  on  yoiQ'  conscience.* 

"  He  laughed  harshly.  *  I  confess  she  was  worth  spar- 
ing ;  she  is  a  charming  creature.  You  seem  to  have 
brought  her  up  remarkably  weE,  but  I  think  you  have 
done  enough.  I  propose  to  assume  her  guai'dianship  in 
future.'  Then  he  went  on  to  offer  me  money — me! — to 
give  up  my  child.  I  saw  his  infernal  scheme,  and  I  burst 
out  in  a  fury.  I  threatened  to  expose  him.  'Try,'  he 
replied,  '  and  see  what  will  become  of  it.  I  shall  simi)ly 
teU  my  story.  I  went  out  to  Chili  to  find  my  cousin,  who 
had  succeeded  to  the  family  estate  of  Denham,  I  had  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  with  me  for  his  use.  A  des- 
perate scoundrel  sees  us  discussing  business  matters,  and 
the  money  on  a  table  before  us.  He  follows  poor  Gilbert, 
murders  and  robs  him  ;  incites  the  rufllans  of  the  place 
to  fire  Deering's  house.  In  the  scuffle  Gilbeii's  little  giil 
is  supposed  to  be  burnt — years  after  I  discover  her  in 
Paris.  T  denounce  the  murderer,  save  my  young  cousin, 
unveil  the  monster  on  whom  she  has  lavished  her  filial 
afiection — and ' 

"  '  Lose  your  estates,'  I  interrupted.  *  You  didn't  want 
to  murder  Gilbert  Deering  for  nothing.  How  would  my 
story  tell  against  yours  ? ' 

"  '  My  good  friend,  not  a  soul  would  believe  your  word 
against  mine.  Your  antecedents  would  put  you  out  of 
court ! ' 

"  '  You  would  need  a  witness  or  two,'  said  I. 

" '  I  might  find  one,'  lie  said,  with  an  idr  of  careless 
security  that  thrilled  me  with  fear.  I  thought  of  his 
strange  intimacy  with  Vincent.  But  he  wouldn't  be  such 
a  villain  as  to  forswear  himself?  'I'll  give  you  a  few 
days  to  reflect,'  he  went  on.  'This  is  my  j^roposition. 
Hand  over  the  girl  to  my  custody.  I  will  find  her  a  good 
husband,  and  generally  take  care  of  her.  You  'make 
yourself  scai'ce  ;  be  off  to  America,  and  drink  yom-self  to 
death.     I'll  give  you  two  hundred  a  year  while  you  are 


THE    8ECEET    OF   THE    PRISON    HOUSE.  •  157 

above  ground.  Refuse,  and  I'll  lodge  information  against 
you  in  consequence  of  revelations  made  to  me  by  your 
friend  Vincent.  Now  take  your  choice.  My  position  is 
impi'eguable  ;  every  one  knows  Gilbert  Deeiing  was  mur- 
dered ;  it  only  remains  to  discover  the  murderer.  If  I 
am  di'iveu  to  this,  I  shall  stand  out  in  bright  colors  as  a 
just  and  chivalrous  kinsman,  and  no  doubt  some  compro- 
mise beneficial  to  me  can  be  arranged.  Of  this  I  am  re- 
solved,— to  get  rid  of  you.'  He  would  not  say  another 
word,  and  I  left  him,  feeling  more  than  half-mad  with 
helpless  rage — ay !  and  terror !  I  am  no  coward,  I  could 
face  death  as  steadily  as  any  man  ;  but  to  leave  my  Elsie 
at  the  mercy  of  such  a  villain,  with  the  stain  of  my  pubHc 
execution  on  her  hfe,  with  the  bitter  knowledge  that  I  had 
killed  her  real  father,  to  blot  out  all  tender,  kindly  recol- 
lection of  me — no,  I  could  not  face  thxd.  Then  to  hand 
her  over  to  a  wretch  who  would  destroy  her  if  he  could  : 
that  idea  drove  me  wild.  I  tell  you  in  my  agony  I  half 
determined  to  put  an  end  to  her  and  to  myself,  as  the 
best  and  most  merciful  mode  of  cutting  the  knot."  He 
paused,  shuddering.  "  No  poor  words  can  tell  the  horror 
of  those  days.  I  had  more  than  one  interview  with  Peer- 
ing, and  the  calm  way  he  affected  to  believe  his  own  lies 
drove  me  wild.  I  urged  that  the  disappearance  of  the 
large  amount  of  money  with  which  he  was  entrusted  to 
give  his  cousin  would  tell  against  him.  He  said  he  had 
given  tlie  money  to  Gilbert,  and  that  I  had  robbed  him  of 
it.  I  appealed  to  Vincent.  Vincent  coolly  told  me  that  I 
had  shot  Deering  in  the  back.  I  was  utterly  powerless  ; 
all  I  could  gain,  was  time. 

"  I  pretended  to  take  the  proposition  of  giving  her  up 
to  Deeiing  into  consideration.  They  thought  I  was  going 
to  yield.  Then  you  came  back,  and  I  playad  a  last  card 
I  asked  you  to  marry  my  Elsie.  I  thought  she  would  be 
safe,  and  I'd  go  away  and  hide.  But  you  couldn't,  or 
wouldn't." 

Glynn  started  up.     "  I  don't  know,"  he  began. 

"  Let  me  finish,"  interrupted  Lambert;  "I  have  nearly 
done.  I  was  desperate,  and  at  bay.  The  thought  came 
into  my  mind  to  hide  my  darling.  I  ran  over  to  England, 
telegraphed  to  Mi's.  Kellett  to  meet  me  at  a  neighbonng 
town,  and  told  her  something  of  my  difficultiea     She  knew 


158  At  bay. 

my  love  for  my  child,  and  obeyed  my  instructions.  I 
transferred  aU  the  money  I  could  to  her  name.  I  took 
counsel  with  her  as  to  where  Elsie  should  stay,  and  when 
she  (Mrs.  KeUett)  should  come  to  Paris,  and  many  details 
I  haven't  time  to  tell.  A  day  or  two  before  the  ball  Mrs. 
KeUett,  down  at  her  brother's  place,  was  laid  up  witJi  a 
severe  cold,  and  was  waited  on  by  a  faithful  old  servant 
who  was  partly  in  her  confidence,  and  let  no  one  else  into 
her  room ;  whereas  in  the  night  she  had  slipped  out  of  the 
house  and  walked  to  the  nearest  station,  where  she  caught 
the  first  train  to  London,  and  came  tlu'ough  to  Paris, 
bringing  with  her  some  Enghsh-made  clothes  to  dress 
Elsie  in.  I  did  not  warn  my  jewel,  lest  she  should  betray 
any  uneasiness,  but  at  the  last  moment  I  made  her  prom- 
ise to  come  home  from  the  ball, — not  to  go  to  Madame's. 
This  between  ourselves. 

"  Then  I  met  her,  and  took  her  into  the  kitchen  of  the 
empty  etage  below  us.  I  had  to  contrive  to  get  hold  of 
the  key.  She  was  terribly  startled;  but  I  made  her  be. 
lieve  her  hiding  was  essential  to  my  safety.  She  changed 
her  clothes,  and  tried  to  eat  something.  We  waited  till  ] 
heard  the  concierge  moving  about,  for  the  danger  was  in 
going  out.  I  had  brought  Mrs.  KeUett  in  with  myself  the 
night  before  as  soon  as  the  house  was  shut  up,  so  that  no 
voice  but  mine  was  heard  when  the  concierge  asked, 
*  Who  was  there  ? '  Well,  they  got  out  exactly  as  that 
thief  of  a  detective  guessed,  while  the  concierge  was  at  the 
pump.  They  walked  quietly  along  over  the  Pont  d'Alma, 
where  they  got  rid  of  the  ball-dress,  and  near  the 
Invalides  took  a  fiacre;  thus  they  got  off  by  the  first 
train. 

"  I  was  careful  to  make  no  discovery,  till  I  thought  they 
would  be  safe  on  board  the  Calais  boat.  Once  landed 
safely  in  England,  and  steaming  to  London,  it  would  be 
next  to  impossible  to  track  them.  In  London,  they  drove 
to  the  Great  Northern,  and  thence,  late  in  the  evening,  to 
the  South- Western  ;  from  that  to  a  lady's  school  at  Clap- 
ham,  kept  by  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Kellett's,  where  Elsie  was 
to  go  as  a  teacher  without  salary. 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  to  do  without  letters  for  months; 
only  one  I  musit  have,  to  say  she  was  safe;  that  was  sent  to 
a  false  name  at  Marseilles,  where  I  journeyed  to  get  it    I 


THE   SECEET   OF  THE  fElSON   HOUSK  150 

had  given  Mrs.  Kellett  a  certain  set  of  advei'tisements  to  be 
inserted  week  after  week  in  the  Daily  News,  ou  We-Ines- 
days  and  I'ridays,  which  informed  nie  that  all  was  well; 
and  one  which  was  only  to  be  inserted  if  my  presence  was 
required, — a  danger  signal,  in  fact.  I  knew  the  shrewd 
devils  I  had  to  deal  with  ;  the  money  power  that  Deering 
wielded.  Nothing  gave  me  a  chance  but  the  eight  or  nine 
hours'  start  before  the  pohce  were  on  the  track. 

"  So  I  waited  and  waited,  never  wiiting  to  England 
except  to  Mrs.  Kellett  now  and  again,  letters  composed 
for  inspection  ;  never  remitting  money  ;  waiting,  watch- 
ing for  a  chance  of  seeming  to  go  back  to  America ; 
really,  of  joining  my  jewel,  and  I  found  it  at  last ;  but 
there,  I  can't  say  another  word.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
this  unlucky  illness,  we'd  have  been  on  our  w^ay  to  Aus- 
tralia.    There,  give  me  some  more." 

He  lay  back  profoundly  exhausted.  Glynn  held  the 
glass  to  his  lips,  while  he  exchanged  a  look  of  wond^x 
and  sympathy  with  Lady  Gethin. 


CHAPTER  X 

A   TRUE    lover's    KNOT. 

Lambert's  hearers  were  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  Both 
perceived  the  danger  and  difficulty  of  his  situation.  If 
Deering  stuck  to  his  text,  and  could  trust  Vincent  to 
show  equal  pertinacity,  all  probabilities  were  on  the  side  of 
the  man  of  high  character,  fortune,  and  position. 

Lady  Gethin  and  Glynn  might  believe  his  story,  from 
the  internal  evidence  of  sympathy  and  sentiment,  but  to 
the  legal  mind  that  would  not  be  worth  a  straw. 

If  Deering  chose,  he  might  obtain  Lambert's  condem- 
nation as  a  robber  and  murderer,  and  purchase  revenge 
by  the  sacrifice  of  his  estate.  Thus  a  blow — a  fatal  blow 
— ^would  be  dealt  to  Elsie,  whose  tender,  faithful  nature 
would  suffer  intensely  from  the  shock  of  such  knowledge. 

To  Glynn  there  seemed  but  one  means  of  security  to 
both — one  he  was  most  ready  to  adoj)t.  As  his  wife, 
Elsie  would  be  out  of  Deering's  reach,  and  with  such  a 
champion  of  her  rights,  he  could  not  hope  to  make  very 
favorable  terms  ;  still,  for  character's  sake,  he  was  almost 
bound  to  support  his  assertions  should  a  whisper  of  them 
reach  any  ears  save  Vincent's  and  Lambert's.  While  he 
thought,  Lambert  seemed  to  revive. 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  an  utter  villain ! "  exclaimed 
Lady  Gethin.  "  I  perfectly  remember  the  death  of  old 
Deering.  The  next  heir  had  been  carried  off  by  fever 
just  before,  making  way  rather  unexpectedly  for  Gilbert. 

"  This  man,  Travers  Deering,  who  had  had  a  quarrel 
with  his  cousin,  was  in  the  office  of  the  family  solicitor, 
and  was  sent  out  to  look  for  him  in  South  America,  as  he 
had  not  been  heard  of  for  some  time.  The  story  goes 
that  he  met  him  and  gave  him  rather  a  large  sum  of 
money  for  his  expenses,  which  Gilbert  took  away  up  to 
some  barbarous  place,  where  he  had  left  his  baby  girL 
He  was  murdered  and  robbed  in  an  outbreak  of  roughs, 
(160) 


A  TRUE   lover's   KNOT.  161 

and  the  child  was  burned,  they  said,  in  the  fire  which 
consumed  Gilbert's  hut  or  house.  It  was  all  in  the  pa- 
pers at  the  time,  and  Deering  made  search  for  the  child, 
offered  rewards,  etc.,  and  did  not  take  possession  of  the 
property  for  some  Uttle  time." 

"  That  lynching  business  was  a  stroke  of  luck  for  Deer- 
ing,"  said  Lambert  feebly. 

"  If  not  inconvenient,  I  should  like  to  see  the  ring  you 
mentioned,"  said  Lady  Gethin. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lambert.  "  Glynn,  ask  Elsie  to  bring 
the  Httle  despatch-box  from  the  table  in  my  room." 

Glynn  went  to  deliver  the  message,  and  Elsie,  who 
came  down-stairs,  inquired  anxiously  if  her  father  was 
not  overtired.  Glynn  assured  her  that  he  seemed  better 
for  the  relief  of  complete  confidence.  "  I  trust  we  shall 
be  able  to  find  a  way  out  of  aU  his  difficalties,"  he  con- 
cluded. 

Elsie  brought  the  box,  and  placing  it  in  his  hands, 
looked  up  in  his  eyes  with  a  sweet,  frank  smile.  "  If  his 
mind  is  at  rest,  he  will  soon  be  better." 

"  I  am  sure  he  will,"  said  Glynn,  his  heart  swelling  with 
infinite  compassion,  as  he  thought  of  the  tangled  villain- 
ous mesh  which  had  twined  itself  round  her  pure  and 
simple  hfe.  To  him  belonged  the  task  of  protecting  and 
dehvering  her.  "  And  you  too,"  he  added,  "  you  need  rest 
and  a  sense  of  security." 

"  When  I  see  him  well,  I  too  shall  be  myself  again." 

Gl}Tin  took  her  hand,  and  kissed  it  reverently.  Some- 
thing of  consciousness  called  the  color  to  her  cheek  at  the 
touch  of  his  hps,  and  it  was  with  a  faint,  delicious  glow  of 
hope  that  Glynn  went  back  to  Lambert,  who,  drawing  out 
a  key  which  hung  to  his  watch-chain,  unlocked  the  box. 
After  a  little  search  he  produced  a  small  case  from  which 
he  took  an  old-fashioned  gold  ring,  two  hands  clasped, 
and  a  bracelet  of  tiny  turquoises  on  each  wrist.  "  There," 
said  Lambert,  "  that  is  the  ring  I  took  from  the  poor  fel- 
low's hand  after  he  had  breathed  his  last." 

Lady  Gethin  took  it,  and  sat  looking  at  it  for  a  moment 
or  two,  her  keen  black  eyes  suffused  with  tears.  "  This  is 
indeed  a  message  from  the  grave,"  she  said,  with  much 
emotion.  *'  I  gave  this  ring  to  Isabel  Acton,  a  few  days 
before  she  married  vxj  relative,  Gilbert  Deering.    I  was 

11 


162  AT  BAT. 

Tery  poor  at  the  time,  and  had  Httle  or  nothing  to  give,  so 
took  this  quaint  old  thing  from  my  finger  to  put  on  hers. 
I  never  saw  the  poor  girl  again." 

"  What  an  extraordinary  piece  of  evidence  !  "  exclaimed 
Glynn. 

"  It  corroborates  the  effect  of  your  daughter's  remarka- 
ble hkeness  to  her  mother.  •  There  is  a  providence  that 
shapes  our  ends,' "  said  Lady  Gethin  in  a  low  tone,  and 
silence  fell  upon  them,  from  which  she  was  the  first  to 
rouse  herself. 

"  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost  in  making  some  arrange- 
ment that  wiU  relieve  you  from  this  hoiTible  condition  of 
fear  and  concealment.     Let  us  consult  my  lawyer." 

"  A  lawyer  ! — no,  no  !  "  cried  Lambert.  "  That  would  be 
dangerous." 

"We  must  proceed  with  infinite  caution,"  observed 
Glynn.  "  Deering's  position  is  a  strong  one.  You  have 
only  your  own  word  to  weigh  against  his.  If  we  could  get 
hold  of  Vincent  ?  " 

"  There  is  little  chance  of  that,"  said  Lambert.  "  If  I 
could  only  be  sure  my  precious  Elsie  were  safe." 

"  She  shall  come  and  stay  with  me,"  cried  Lady  Gethin 
with  enthusiasm. 

"  That  would  be  going  into  the  lion's  jaws,"  said  Glynn. 
*'  This  is  my  plan  :  I  have  learned  to  love  your  daughter 
(as  I  stiU  consider  her)  ;  let  me  try  and  win  her ;  and  let 
us  keep  aU  dark  till  she  is  my  wife." 

Lambert  stretched  out  his  hand  to  grasp  Glynn's  ;  he 
tried  to  speak  in  vain,  and  burst  into  a  fit  of  hysterical 
weeping. 

"  Moreover,"  continued  Glynn  solemnly,  "  I  promise,  that 
if  Peering  resigns  his  bold  attempts  at  revenge,  no  love  of 
mere  wealth  shall  induce  me  to  open  up  the  question  of 
Elsie's  parentage  or  your  past  Hfe." 

The  sound  of  her  father's  sobs  brought  Elsie  into  the 
room,  and  broke  off  the  conversation. 

"  It  is  altogether  the  most  extraordinary  romance  I  ever 
heard  of,"  said  Lady  Gethin,  when  Glynn  called  a  few 
days  after  these  exciting  disclosures.  "  I  have  been 
thinking  what  is  best  to  be  done.  Suppose  I  take  Elsie 
abroad  with  me,  and  you  follow.    You  can  be  married 


A  TRtTE   lover's    KNOT.  163 

quietly,  and  then  snap  yoTir  fingers  at  Deering.  Lambert 
alone  he  could  easily  crush,  but  Lambert  as  '  father-in-law 
to  a  very  magnificent  three-tailed  Bashaw '  is  a  different 
matter.  I  am  deeply  interested  in  your  little  lady-love, 
and  I  am  by  no  means  disposed  to  give  up  her  inheritance 
to  that  double-dyed  traitor." 

"  You  must  remember  I  have  not  yet  been  accepted.  I 
have  not  even  tried  my  chance." 

"  Pray  do  not  lose  any  more  time.  She  would  never  be 
such  a  fool  as  to  refuse  you !  You  are  reaUy  a  very  ac- 
ceptable sort  of  man." 

"  Thanks  for  the  compliment.  But  I  hesitate  ;  because 
I  dread  the  complications  which  would  ensue  if  she  refuses 
me!" 

"  Fiddle-de-dee.  She  won't  refuse  you  I  I  would  not 
refuse  you  were  I  a  young  lady." 

Glynn  laughed,  and  then  grew  grave.  "  I  was  rather 
annoyed  yesterday  to  hear  from  Mrs.  Kellett,  who  is  stay- 
ing at  her  cousin's  school  at  Clapham,  that  she  is  afraid 
she  is  being  watched — she  is  not  sm^e  ;  but  of  course  she 
is  nervously  on  the  qui  vive.  She  rarely  ventures  to 
Garston  Terrace  ;  and  the  blessed  day  I  found  Elsie  they 
had  met  at  that  hotel  in  Holbom  to  arrange  some  money 
matters,  as  Mrs.  KeUett  is  afraid  to  write." 

"  "What  a  dreadful  state  of  things !  So  it  was  Elsie's 
voice  you  heard  at  Clapham  1  "Was  that  Mrs.  Storrer  in 
the  secret?" 

•*  Not  altogether.  "When  Elsie  first  went  she  thought 
she  was  French;  afterwards  Mrs.  Kellett  partially  confided 
in  her,  and  between  them  they  prepared  the  story  of  her 
having  gone  with  a  family  to  India,  in  case  of  inquiries." 

"  "Well !  "  said  Lady  Gethin,  "  I  shall  make  my  prepara- 
tions for  going  abroad;  and  you  go  and  settle  things  with 
Elsie  and  her  father.  By  the  way,  have  you  found  out 
how  he  escaped  from  the  steamer  where  Vincent  abso- 
lutely saw  him  en  route  for  America?" 

"  By  a  very  clever  dodge.  Lambert  waited  and  watched 
till  he  found  a  needy  countryman  something  of  his  own 
height  and  color,  who  wished  to  go  to  New  York.  He 
ofifered  to  pay  this  man's  passage  from  Liverpool  if  he 
would  go  under  the  name  of  Lambert.  This  he  readily 
agreed  to.    Lambert  went  to  see  him  off.    His  repr©- 


164  AT  BAf. 

sentative  wore  a  macldntosli  of  a  peculiar  cut,  a  chimney- 
pot hat,  and  a  large,  white  comforter  muffling  the  lower 
part  of  his  face.  Lambert  had  a  brown  cloth  overcoat, 
and  fur  travelling-cap.  He  and  his  friend  talked  together 
on  the  deck  till  the  last  moment,  and  then  seeing  Vincent 
(of  whose  presence  he  had  been  aware)  move  off,  he 
sHpped  behind  some  shelter  with  his  friend,  and  changed 
coat  and  hat  in  hot  haste  ;  Lambert  twisted  the  com- 
forter round  his  throat  and  face,  and  joined  the  crowd 
on  the  gangway  a  little  behind  Vincent.  The  fellow 
paused  on  the  pier  to  watch  the  rest  go  by;  and  Lambert 
passed  him  with  the  utmost  sang-froid,  even  stopping  to 
wave  his  hand  to  his  friend  on  deck,  and  then  walked 
smartly  on,  jumped  into  a  cab,  and  caught  the  Loudon 
train," 

"  Well  done !  But  the  most  determined  will,  the  most 
inventive  brain,  cannot  keep  up  concealment  in  these  days 
if  you  are  looked  for !  Suppose  you  were  to  see  Deering 
yourself,  Hugh?" 

"  No  ;  the  only  chance  for  present  peace.is  to  let  him 
suppose  that  I  am  ignorant  of  the  truth." 

"  Perhaps  so !  I  must  say  I  am  most  reluctant  to  let 
that  wretch  escape." 

"  So  am  I ;  but  I  think  of  Elsie  before  ever}i:hing. 
Well,  go  away  and  settle  everything  with  her  ;  teU  her  to 
be  ready  to  start  for  the  Continent  on  Monday." 

It  was  late  before  Glynn  reached  Garston  Terrace  ;  he 
had  had  some  business  to  attend  to,  and  took  a  hasty 
meal  at  his  club,  thus  securing  a  long  evening. 

Never  did  the  way  seem  so  long.  He  was  resolved  that 
if  an  opportunity  offered,  or  even  if  it  did  not,  to  avow 
his  affection  to  Elsie,  and  try  to  obtain  her  promise  in 
return. 

When  he  reached  the  door,  the  landlady  informed  him 
that  Missee  "  was  very  much  upset,  and  waiting  for  him 
in  the  drawing-room."  The  moment  he  entered  she  flew 
to  him  witn  outstretched  hands,  which  he  took  and  tenderly 
held. 

"Why  have  you  been  so  long?  Oh!  I  have  seen  him. 
He  has  followed  us  here !  What  shall  we  do  ? — how  shall 
we  escape  ?  " 

"  Whom  have  you  seen  ?  "  asked  Glynn,  drawing  her  to 
him,  distressed  at  the  wild  fear  in  her  eyes. 


A  TRUE   lover's   KNOT.  166 

"Vincent ! "  she  whispered.  "  I  saw  him  from  my  bed- 
room about  three  hours  ago  ;  my  room  is  to  the  front. 
He  did  not  see  me,  I  am  sure ;  he  was  looking  round 
when  I  first  caught  sight  of  him,  and  his  back  was  towards 
me,  so  I  kept  behind  the  curtain.  Oh !  Mr.  Glynn,  it  will 
kill  my  father,  I  know  it  will !  "What  can  we  do  ?  Will 
you  not  help  us?" 

"  I  would  give  my  life  to  buy  peace  for  you,  sweetest," 
cried  Glynn  passionately.  "  Give  me  the  right  to  be  with 
you,  to  guard  you  and  your  father !  I  love  you  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul.  Give  me  a  little  love  in  return !  be 
my  own  dear  wife.  I  swear,  whether  you  are  or  not,  that 
accursed  American  shall  do  you  no  harm.  Elsie,  beloved ! 
wiU  you  be  mine  ?  "  He  grasped  her  hands  tightly,  and 
held  her  eyes  with  his,  as  if  he  would  penetrate  her  heart's 
secret.  At  first  an  expression  of  profoundest  amazement 
flitted  over  her  face,  succeeded  by  a  deep  burning  blush, 
as  she  shrank  back  from  him. 

"  Are  you  sure  this  is  not  compassion  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a 
very  low  voice. 

"  Compassion  ?  No  ;  why  should  it  be  compassion  ? 
Do  you  not  feel,  do  you  not  see,  that  I  love  you,  as  mea 
rarely  love  ?  "  A  curious,  amused  smile  stole  round  Elsie's 
lips,  and  her  eyes  sunk  to  the  ground.  "  "What  do  you 
smile  at  ?  "  asked  Glynn,  surprised  in  his  turn. 

"  At  your  change  of  mind.  Some  seven  or  eight  months 
ago  you  refused  to  marry  me  !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  cried  Glynn,  feeling  as  if  the 
glowing  currents  in  his  veins  were  arrested  and  turned  to 
ice. 

"  By  means  of  which  I  ought  to  be  and  am  ashamed." 

«  Tell  me  !  " 

"  You  were  sitting  after  dinner  with  my  father,  and  I 
came  into  my  own  little  room.  The  curtain  was  down, 
but  I  heard  him  say  something  about '  my  jewel,'  as  he  so 
often  called  me,  and,"  hesitating,  "  I  listened.  I  know  it 
was  shameful,  but  I  could  not  resist.  "What  struck  me 
most  was  that  he  offered  to  go  away,  not  to  see  me.  I 
wondered  what  sort  of  man  you  could  be  to  need  such  an 
assurance !  " 

"  "What  could  you  have  thought  of  me  ?  "  cried  Glynn. 
*•  Can  you  ever  forgive  my  insane  folly  ?  " 


166  AT  BAT. 

"  Oh !  I  did  not  mind !  These  plans  of  marriagG  are 
often  made  by  thoughtful  parents.  You  hardly  knew  me 
then  ;  it  would  have  been  f  oohsh  to  agree  to  what  might 
not  have  been  suitable.  I  did  not  dream  of  marrying 
you.    You  seemed  to  me  too " 

"  Old  ?  "  suggested  Glynn,  more  charmed  than  ever  with 
her  sweet,  grave  simpHcity,  and  thirsting  to  kiss  the  lovely 
mouth  that  spoke  so  melodiously. 

"  No,"  with  a  smile,  "  not  old,  but  grand  ;  I  cannot 
exactly  express  what  I  mean.  I  did  not  want  to  marry 
you.  Indeed,  I  was  so  taken  up  with  what  my  father  said 
about  keeping  away  from  me,  that  I  did  not  think  much 
about  you." 

"Will  you  think  of  me  now?"  exclaimed  Glynn. 
"  Look  at  me,  dearest !  read  my  heart  in  my  eyes.  Believe 
me,  there  is  nothing  in  heaven  above,  or  earth  beneath, 
that  I  desire  as  I  desire  your  love  I  " 

Elsie  grew  a  Httle  pale. 

"  I  am  half -frightened  at  the  idea.  It  is  not  good  for 
you  ;  it  is  not  wise  of  you  ;  though  I  am  ignorant  of  the 
world,  I  know  it  must  be  bad  for  any  man  to  marry  a  girl 
who  has  been  obhged  to  hide  away  as  I  have  been — who 
is  surrounded  with  mystery  and  fear,  and  who  could 
never,  never  forsake  her  dear  father  even  for  you !  " 

"  Even  for  me  !  then  you  love  me  a  Httle,  Elsie  ?  " 

"I  do ! "  with  a  shght  sob.  "  I  love  you  for  your  loyalty 
and  goodness  to  my  father.  I  love  you  " — she  stopped 
and  added  with  gentle  solemnity — "  for  yourself."  Yield- 
ing to  his  passionate  embrace,  she  clung  to  him  and  burst 
into  a  fit  of  wild  weeping  that  surprised  and  disturbed 
him.  "  I  hope  it  is  not  wrong  to  let  you  love  me,"  she 
murmured  brokenly ;  "I  do  not  know  what  is  behind, 
and  if  we  must  part " 

"  We  never  shall  unless  by  your  special  wish,  my  own, 
my  Hfe.  /  know  everything,  and  you  shall  know  every- 
thing by  and  by.  Will  you  not  wait  and  trust  your  father 
and  me  ? " 

" I  vnU,"  she  returned,  and  Glynn  felt  her  "  I  will"  was 
equal  to  another's  oath.  She  disengaged  herself  from  his 
arms,  and  stood  for  an  instant  with  clasped  hands  in 
silent,  prayerful  thought.  Glynn  waited  till  she  stirred, 
and  then  taking  her  hand,  began  softly  to  explain  to  her 


A  TKUE   lover's   KNOT.  167 

the  necessity  of  a  speedy  marriage,  and  Lady  Gethin's 
wish  to  take  her  abroad  at  once.  This  Elsie  demurred  to ; 
she  could  not  leave  her  father,  who,  though  wonderfully 
recovered  in  health,  was  greatly  depressed  and  de- 
spondent. 

"  Let  us  go  and  consult  him,"  said  Glynn. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  have  forgotten  him  too  long.  Shall  we  tell 
him  that  I  saw  Vincent  ?  " 

"No,  certainly  not.  The  knowledge  wiU  not  add  to 
his  safety,  and  may  injure  liim.     He  must  leave  this " 

"  He  is  very  safe  here.  The  house  is  really  ours.  Mrs. 
Kellett  took  it  furnished  for  a  year.  The  landlady  ia 
reaUy  her  old  servant,  who  knew  me  as  a  child.  She  waa 
here  for  two  months  before  we  came.  She  will  never  say 
anything  that  could  betray  us." 

"  Ah !  an  excellent  plan.  But  come  to  your  father— 
we  must  consult  him." 

Lambert  was  reading  a  newspaper  when  they  entered 
his  room.  He  was  looking  stronger  and  more  like  him- 
self than  Glynn  had  seen  him  since  they  had  met  in 
London.  He  welcomed  them  cordially,  glancing  from 
one  to  the  other,  as  if  perceiving  traces  of  unusual  emo- 
tion. "Lambert,"  said  Glynn,  "we  have  come  to  ask 
your  consent.  I  am  so  infinitely  happy  as  to  have  won 
Elsie's  ;  you  will  not  withhold  yours  ?  " 

"  My  God,  I  thank  Thee !  "  murmvired  Lambert.  *'  My 
child — my  Elsie,  you  will  be  safe  now,  and  I  have  done 
with  hfe." 

Elsie  ran  to  him,  and  putting  her  arms  round  his  neck 
kissed  him  over  and  over  again,  exclaiming,  "  No,  my  own 
dear  father,  you  will  begin  life  anew  ;  the  best  of  it  is  to 
come.  He  loves  you,  too  ;  he  will  help  me  to  make  you 
happy." 

When  they  were  a  little  calmer  Glynn  began  to  speak 
of  Lady  Gethin's  plans,  and  rather  to  Elsie's  surprise 
Lambert  was  eager  to  adopt  them.  He  declared  it  would 
make  his  mind  quite  easy  to  know  that  his  daughter  was 
under  Lady  Gethin's  care  ;  that  he  would  soon  be  able  to 
travel,  and  join  them  with  Glynn.  He  seemed  eager  that 
this  plan  should  be  carried  out. 

"Father,"  said  Elsie,  taking  his  hand  in  both  hers, 
"will  you  not  trust  me? — ^will  you  not  tell  m©  the  se 
cretr* 


168  AT  BAT. 

"  Well,  not  quite  all  of  it,"  said  Lambert,  with  a  peculiar 
look  at  Glynn.  "  You  see,  my  dear,  a  long  time  ago  I 
was  foolish  enough  to  get  mixed  up  in  a  political  plot  to 
upset  the  Government  in  Ireland.  Well,  it  never  came  to 
anything  ;  a  blackguard  connected  with  it  betrayed  every- 
thing, and  he  was  murdered  out — oh,  out  in  California. 
Well,  unfortunately  I  was  the  last  person  seen  with  him, 
and  Peering  has  got  evidence  that  might  hang  me.  Now 
I  don't  want  a  row  until  I  have  the  means  of  disproving 
his  assertions.  Of  course  he  has  an  object  in  all  this,  and 
of  course  you  don't  believe  /  would  take  a  Uf e  ?  " 

"  You,  dear,  dear  father !  No,  indeed  ;  but  why — why 
were  you  obhged  to  hide  me?  Would  it  not  be  better  to 
face  itaU?" 

"  I  hid  you,  my  darling,  because  that  red  devil  had  a 
design  to  remove  you  from  my  guardianship  on  the  plea 
that  I  was  a  criminal ;  and  as  to  facing  it,  I'll  do  that 
when  I  have  counter  evidence,  which  I  hope  to  get." 

"  Which  is  only  prudent,"  put  in  Glynn. 

*'  It  is  all  very  strange,"  said  Elsie,  trembling  visibly. 
"  They  cannot  hiirt  him,  can  they  ?  " — to  Glynn.  "  They 
shall  not.  And  you,"  she  continued,  turning  to  him, 
"  you  wish  to  marry  me  in  the  face  of  all  this  ?  " 

"  As  ardently  as  if  you  were  the  daughter  of  the  proud- 
est potentate  in  Europe." 

Elsie  was  silent,  her  bosom  heaved,  tears  hung  heavy 
on  her  long  lashes,  and  it  was  only  by  a  strong  effort  of 
her  habitual  self-control  that  she  resisted  an  outburst  of 
tears. 

"You  are  fit  for  the  best  king  that  ever  sat  on  a 
throne,"  cried  Lambert :  "  and  Glynn  is  worthy  of  you. 
Now,  my  darHng,  go — go  write  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Kellett 
and  tell  her  everything  ;  Glynn  will  post  it  (we  are  des- 
perately cautious  about  communicating  with  Mra  Kel- 
lett), and  I  will  have  a  little  talk  with  Glynn." 

Elsie,  who  looked  shocked  and  shaken,  kissed  her 
father's  hand  lovingly,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  You  can  never  be  accused  seriously.  Surely  there  is 
no  danger  ?  Why  does  Mr.  Deering  hate  you?  I  did  not 
believe  there  was  such  wickedness  except  in  books." 

With  an  appealing  look  at  Glynn,  she  left  the  room. 

**  It  was  a  good  thought,"  saad  Lambert,  leaning  baclj 


A  TETJE  lover's   KNOT.  169 

with  a  deep  sigh,  "  a  very  good  thought,  to  make  her  be- 
lieve I  was  mixed  up  with  the  rebel  Irish  ;  so  I  have 
been,  but  not  much.  Anything  rather  than  the  truth.  I 
tell  you,  G-lynn,  she  must  never  know  that  I  killed  her 
"own  father,  of  whom  she  has  stiU  a  confused  memory,  for 
she  has  let  out  that  I  sometunes  seem  different  from  the 
picture  her  e&rly  memory  presents  of  me.  I'd  die  out- 
right rather,  Glynn.  The  toils  press  me  closer  and  closer, 
but  my  Elsie  will  be  safe  with  you." 

"  As  safe  as  love  and  care  can  make  her,"  said  Glynn  in 
a  low,  solemn  tone. 

"  Then  it  matters  little  about  me,"  said  Lambert,  and 
remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes  with  a  look  of  deepest 
despondency. 

"  Suppose  you  let  me  see  Deering  on  your  behalf  ? " 
suggested  Glynn.     *'  I  might " 

"  No,  no,"  interrupted  Lambert  vehemently  ;  "  none 
must  meddle  with  him  but  me.  Once  Elsie  is  away,  I 
will  go  and  see  him.  If  he  knows  she  is  safe  out  of  his 
reach,  the  black  villain,  he  may  come  to  terms.  But  he'd 
do  anything  for  revenge.  I  believe  he  could  hang  me  ; 
and  he  might  choose  to  destroy  me,  and  through  me  my 
darling.  No ;  I  will  see  him  myself  as  soon  as  I  am  a 
trifle  stronger."  Lambert  rose,  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  room  with  a  sort  of  feeble  energy  very  touching.  "  If 
I  could  get  out,"  he  said,  "  I'd  gather  strength,  and  I 
don't  want  to  face  that  scoundrel  tiU  I  have  the  piuck  to 
stand  up  to  him.  Oh,  Glynn,  Glynn,  I  feel  as  if  he  would 
get  the  better  of  me !  " 

"  You  must  keep  up  your  heart,  Lambert,  for  her  sake. 
If  Deering  knows  that  Elsie  is,  or  soon  will  be,  my  wife, 
and  that  you  wiU  not  press  any  claim  upon  him,  he  will 
be  glad  enough  to  keep  quiet." 

"  May  be  so,  may  be  so  ;  anyway,  you  lifted  a  great 
load  off  my  mind  by  making  it  all  right  with  my  jewel. 
I'll  let  you  go  now,  I  am  desperate  tired.  You  go  and 
have  a  little  talk  with  Elsie  while  I  rest  and  think  what's 
best  to  be  done.  You  teU  Elsie  to  get  all  ready  to  start 
with  Lady  Gethin  ;  and,  Glynn,  promise  me  one  thing — ' 
never  let  her  know  that  I  shot  her  father.  Your  bandi 
on  it." 

''  I  promise  you,"  said  Glynn  gravely. 


170  AT  BAT. 

Another  delightful  hour  with  Elsie,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  go.  He  had  persuaded  her  to  accompany  Lady 
Gethin,  and  had  undertaken  not  to  lose  sight  of  her 
father  until  he  conveyed  him  safely  to  Lausanne.  The 
idea  that  Deering  was  plotting  against  his  life  had  greatly 
affected  her. 

"  There  must  be  much  you  do  not  tell  me,"  she  said. 
"  The  whole  thing  seems  so  strange  and  terrible." 

"  No  doubt  it  does,"  said  Glynn.  "  Later,  I  am  sure, 
your  father  wiQ  tell  you  more.  Now,  my  love,  my  dar- 
ling, I  must  leave  you." 

"Before  you  go,"  said  Elsie,  raising  her  eyes  to  hia 
with  a  grave  snule,  "  teU  me  your  name  1  I  never  heard 
it,  and  I  want  to  Iniow  ;  I  want  to  call  you  by  some  name 
more  famihar  than  Mr.  Glynn  in  my  thoughts." 

"  I  hope  you  will,  deai-est.     I  am  called  Hugh." 

"  Hugh !  I  do  not  know  that  name,  I  like  it.  It  sounds 
strong."  Then,  with  a  vivid  blush,  but  a  certain  steadi- 
ness, as  if  she  had  made  up  her  mind,  she  said,  "  Good- 
night, dear  Hugh." 

Glynn  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissing  her  tenderly, 
implored  her  k>  take  courage  and  beheve  that  her  father's 
innocence  would  yet  be  proved,  and  the  villainy  plotted 
against  him  frustrsrted. 

It  was  a  dreadful  wrench  for  Elsie  to  part  from  her 
father.  It  needed  the  united  influence  and  urging  both 
of  Glynn  and  Lambert  to  persuade  her  at  the  last.  For 
the  few  days  intervening  between  Glynn's  avowal  and 
Elsie's  departure,  Lambert  walked  every  morning  in  the 
little  garden  behind  the  house,  leaning  on  his  daughter's 
arm.  He  seemed  feverishly  eager  to  regain  strength  now 
that  the  local  doctor  who  attended  him  ceased  his  visits, 
and  declared  him  convalescent. 

Lambert,  having  determined  to  declare  himself  to  Deer- 
ing, was  less  nervously  anxious  to  keep  in  hiding,  and 
even  drove  with  Glynn  and  Elsie  as  far  as  Lady  Gethin's 
the  morning  of  the  day  the  latter  were  to  start  for  the 
Continent.  He  wanted,  he  said,  to  see  the  last  of  his 
child. 

"  The  last  for  the  next  few  weeks,"  corrected  Glynn. 


A  TRUE  lover's  KNOT.  Itl 

"  May  be  so,  may  be  so,"  said  Lambert,  with  a  saJ.  ring 
in  his  voice. 

Lady  Gethin  made  him  welcome,  and  at  once  evinced 
an  inclination  to  pet  Elsie,  who  was  too  much  overcome 
by  the  dread  of  leaving  her  father  to  heed  the  minute 
kindnesses  heaped  upon  her. 

"  Don't  be  too  downcast  about  her,"  said  Lady  Gethin, 
who  was  in  her  element  at  the  head  of  affairs  and  in  the 
centre  of  a  romantic  mystery.  "  When  she  is  clear  away, 
and  has  had  a  few  cheering  letters  from  her  father,  she 
will  be  all  right.  The  sooner  he  makes  things  square  with 
Deering  the  better.  I  can  never  believe  he  would  be  such 
a  headstrong  idiot  as  to  throw  away  a  splendid  estate  and 
high  position  for  the  sake  of  mere  revenge." 

"  Mere  revenge !  It  is  a  powerful  incentive.  Kemem- 
ber  the  ill-health  of  that  crippled  boy  of  his !  I  doubt  if 
he  cai-es  to  transmit  much  to  him,  and  then  he  no  doubt 
counts  on  a  compromise  that  he  would  be  left  the  life-use 
of  the  property." 

"  To  which  I  hope  and  trust  you  would  never  consent, 
Hugh !  I'd  take  that  wretch's  skin  off,  if  I  could !  In 
fact  I  have  set  my  heart  on  seeing  you  master  of  Denham 
one  of  these  days.  It  is  infamous  that  wickedness  should 
flourish  in  high  places." 

"  I  prefer  keeping  my  word  to  Lambert  that  Elsie  should 
never  knov/  how  her  real  father  died,  to  possessing  the 
finest  property  in  the  kingdom." 

"  Well,  you  need  not  break  your  word ;  neither  need 
you  be  Quixotic." 

These  sentences  were  exchanged  in  the  dining-room, 
from  which  Lambert  and  Elsie  had  retired  to  have  a  few 
words  in  private  in  Lady  Gethin's  boudoir.  Thither  she 
and  Glynn  followed  them,  the  latter  drawing  Elsie  into 
the  conservatory  adjoining, 

"  The  next  fortnight  wiU  be  awfuUy  blank,"  he  exclaimed, 
when  they  were  out  of  earshot.  "  By  that  time  I  trust  all 
difficulties  will  be  surmounted,  and  I  shaU  be  able  to  start 
with  your  father  for  Lausanne  ;  then  I  trust  there  will 
only  be  peace  and  love  for  you  both  in  the  future." 

"  Would  to  God  this  terrible  interval  were  over ! "  said 
Elsie,  with  a  quivering  sigh. 

"  I  intend  to  insist  on  your  father's  staying  with  me  in 


172  AT   BAT. 

my  chambers  until  he  is  free  to  join  youl  Trust  him  to 
me,  dearest,"  replied  Glynn. 

"  How  good  you  are !  How  can  I  ever  thank  you 
enough?"  cried  Elsie,  and  carried  away  by  tenderness 
and  gratitude  her  arms  stole  round  his  neck,  and  she 
kissed  him  repeatedly  in  all  the  simple  sincerity  of  unhes- 
itating aflfection. 

Soon  after,  as  it  was  growing  late,  Lambert  proposed 
returning  to  his  lodgings.  He  had  said  good-bye  to  Lady 
Gethin,  and  tenderly  embraced  Elsie.  He  had  even  gone 
half-way  down-stairs  when  he  suddenly  paused,  and  turn- 
ing back  exclaimed,  "  I  must  take  one  more  look  at  her," 
and  ascending  to  the  drawing-room,  took  her  hand  in  both 
his  own.  Gazing  intently  into  her  face,  he  said  softly, 
"  My  own  jewel !  Have  I  made  you  happy  ?  Will  you 
pardon  me  any  wrong  I  may  have  done  you  ?  " 

"  Wrong  ! — you  have  done  me  nothing  but  good.  No 
father  ever  made  a  daughter  happier  than  you  have  made 
me." 

"  Then  give  me  a  loving  thought  now  and  again.  God 
bless  you,  my  darhng.     Good-bye,  good-bye." 

"  Only  for  a  little  while,  dearest,  best !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Be  careful,  and  come  to  me  soon  !  " 

Lambert  made  no  reply.  He  hurried  into  the  cab  which 
waited  below,  and  accompanied  by  Glynn  returned  to  his 
lodgings  in  safety. 

There  was  little  or  no  difficulty  in  persuading  Lambert 
to  accept  his  future  son-in-law's  invitation.  Though 
greatly  pleased  to  know  Elsie  was  with  Lady  Gethin,  he 
evidently  shrank  from  being  alone,  and  was  in  so  low  and 
nervous  a  condition  that  Glynn  insisted  on  carrying  him 
off  to  his  chambers  the  day  after  Elsie's  departure. 

Here  he  revived  considerably,  and  was  able  to  receive 
a  visit  from  Mrs.  Kehett.  Letters  from  Elsie  and  Lady 
Gethin  also  cheered  him.  StiU  he  was  not  himself,  and 
his  restlessness  was  painful  at  times. 

Glynn  carefully  avoided  any  appearance  of  change  in 
his  habits,  and  went  out  to  dinners  and  parties  as  usual. 
At  one  of  these  he  encountered  Deering,  and  took  the  in- 
itiative by  asking  if  he  had  been  aU  this  time  in  the  coun- 
try, as  he  had  not  met  him  anywhere  lately. 


A  IBUE  LOVEb's  knot.  IfS 

**  I  stayed  longer  than  I  intended  at  Denham,  putting 
matters  in  train  for  the  election,  and  now  that  radical  fel- 
low Smithson  will  neither  die  or  retire.  But  you  have 
been  rather  scarce  lately.  I  haven't  seen  you  in  the  haunts 
of  men." 

"  I  think  I  have  been  as  much  about  as  usual.  By  the 
way,  is  yoiir  American  friend  Vincent  in  town  ?  I  fancied 
I  saw  him  the  other  day  in  Bond  Street." 

"  Vincent !  yes  ;  at  least  he  was  last  week.  The  fellow 
is  a  born  detective.  He  will  not  give  up  the  chase  after 
Lambert  and  his  daughter.  It  seems  he  found  out  that 
the  woman  who  brought  Miss  Lambert  up  is  staying  at 
Clapham,  and  he  has  been  dodging  her,  thinking  he  wiU 
track  the  Lamberts  through  her.  By  the  way,  the  Amer- 
ican police  are  duffers  :  they  have  at  last  found  out  that 
they  have  been  hunting  the  wrong  man.  My  own  belief 
is  that  Lambert  never  quitted  England." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  returned  Glynn.  "  Are  you  to  be  at  the 
Milton  wedding  next  week  ?  Lady  Agnes  is  your  sister- 
in-law,  is  she  not?" 

"  No,  only  my  wife's  cousin ;  she  is  not  very  well, — 
Lady  Frances  I  mean, — and  I  have  begged  off  the  fes- 
tivity. I  go  down  to  Denham  on  Wednesday  for  a  few 
days.  I  am  making  some  alterations  there,  and  want  to 
look  after  them." 

"Well,  good-night." 

Glynn  cetumed  with  so  much  information  for  Lambert, 
who  was  evidently  stirred  by  it.  "I  am  better  and 
stronger,"  he  said,  rising  and  stretching  himseK  :  "I'll 
take  heart,  and  go  talk  to  him  in  the  midst  of  his  ill-gotten 
property  ;  maybe  he'U  hear  reason.     If  not " 

"  If  not,  let  me  see  him  and  remonstrate." 

"  Anyway,  I'll  not  bear  this  state  of  misery  any  longer  ; 
III  find  freedom  somehow  I "  cried  Lambert,  with  an  air 
of  determination. 


CHAPTEB    XI. 

PAID   m  FULL. 

"I  FEEL  like  myseK,"  said  Lambert  to  his  host,  a  few 
days  after  the  encounter  above  recorded.  "  I'll  go  down  to 
Denham  to-morrow,  and  get  my  interview  with  Deering 
over." 

"I  am  not  at  all  sure  you  are  equal  to  it,  Lambert ;  you 
are  feverish  and  excited.  Why  not  wait  till  he  comes  up 
to  town?" 

"  Because  I'd  feel  safer  in  the  country.  That  fellow  is 
just  traitor  enough  to  keep  me  in  talk  while  he  sent  for  a 
constable,  and  made  a  charge  of  murder  against  me. 
Constables  are  not  so  near  at  hand  in  the  country." 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken  ;  I  don't  fancy  Deering  will 
cut  off  his  nose  to  spite  his  face." 

"It's  hard  to  tell.  Anyhow  I'll  try  him.  I  suppose 
there  is  some  village  or  town  near  where  a  man  could  put 
«p?" 

"  There  is  a  village  at  Denham,  I  believe,  but  the  rail- 
way-station is  five  or  six  miles  off,  I  am  told,  at  a  town 
called  Earlshall,  where  no  doubt  you  will  find  accommo- 
dation. I  wish  you  would  leave  the  matter  in  my  hands, 
Lambert." 

"  That  I  cannot ;  but  I  think  I  am  sufficiently  backed 
up  now  to  make  terms  with  him." 

"  I  wish  you  could  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  coun- 
try, but  that  without  witnesses  would  be  impossible,"  re- 
turned Glynn.  "  Make  the  best  terms  you  can.  I  agree 
with  you  in  thinking  that  no  amount  of  wealth  could  atone 
for  shocking  and  grieving  Elsie." 

"  Nothing  could  I  "  ejaculated  Lambert.  "And  suppose 
I  am  hanged,  will  yon  be  true  to  my  darling  ?  " 

"  Yes,  even  if  I  believed  you  guilty  of  murder,  I  would 
iticktoherl" 

Lambert  seized  and  pressed  his  hand,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence  resumed  : 
(174) 


PAID  m  FTJLL.  175 

"  111  go  and  sleep  at  my  own  place  to-night ;  it's  nearer 
the  Great  Northern,  and  I'll  start  off  to-morrow  morning. 
Maybe  I'll  be  lucky,  hey  ? "  He  pulled  out  Elsie's  last 
letter  and  read  it  through  in  silence.  "  She  is  happy  any- 
way, but  she's  wearying  for  her  old  dad  !  God  bless  her  I 
God  bless  her,  and  watch  over  her !  " — with  a  burst  of 
feehng.  "The  blessing  of  a  vagabond  like  myself  isn't 
worth  much,  but  there  it  is.  Maybe  but  for  me  she'd  be 
a  great  lady  now,  and  holding  her  own  in  the  sight  of  aJl 
men." 

"  And  perhaps  but  for  you  she  would  be  in  her  grave, 
or  struggling  in  poverty  and  degradation,"  said  Glynn. 

"Who  can  tell?"  rejoined  the  other,  and  he  left  the 
room  to  prepare  for  his  return  to  his  own  abode. 

"  I'll  not  write  to  you,  Glynn,"  were  his  last  words  at 
starting  ;  "  I'll  just  come  straight  back  and  tell  you  every- 
thing." 

"Do;  and  remember  that  the  bolder  front  you  can 
show,  the  greater  the  chance  of  his  yielding.  Speak  as  if 
you  had  a  cloud  of  witnesses  to  back  you." 

"  Ay,  that's  the  plan !  I'll  try  it,  if  only  my  nerves  keep 
as  steady  as  they  feel  to-day." 

•  *  •  •  •       -    «  • 

The  chief  inn  of  EaxlshaU,  a  small  town  on  the  borders 
of  Northshire,  was  full  and  busy  one  morning  in  May, 
more  than  twelve  months  from  the  opening  of  this  true 
history.  It  was  market-day,  and  the  coffee-room  resound- 
ed with  the  loud  voices  and  creaking  boots  of  the  neigh- 
boring farmers,  who  had  looked  in  for  a  mouthful  and  "  a 
drop  of  drink  "  somewhat  stronger  than  coffee. 

The  stables  were  full  of  strong,  serviceable  nags,  worthy 
of  the  shire  which  bred  them,  and  the  busy  hostlers  had 
scarce  time  to  attend  to  the  demand  of  a  stranger,  who 
had  been  staying  for  the  last  two  days  at  the  inn,  that  one 
or  other  of  them  should  saddle  the  horse  he  had  ridden 
each  day  since  he  arrived. 

"  Hand  it  over  to  me,  and  I'll  saddle  him  myself,"  he 
•aid  at  length.  "  I  am  no  fool  about  a  horse,  and  can 
generally  manage  aJl  I  want  with  my  own  hands."  So 
Baying,  he  proceeded  to  saddle  the  steed  he  had  selected, 
and  soon  trotted  out  of  the  yard. 


176  AT  BAT, 

A  stranger  was  a  novelty  at  Earlshall,  and  severaS 
inquii-ies  were  addressed  to  "  mine  host,"  who  mixed  om 
pleasant,  easy  terms  with  his  guests.  "  The  visitor  was 
from  'Lunnon'  or  from  furrin  parts."  But  he  knew  a 
horse  when  he  saw  one  ;  he  had  been  over  to  Denham  all 
day  long  ;  the  landlord's  opinion  was  that  likely  he  came 
from  a  newspaper,  and  he  hoped  as  how  he  would  write 
up  the  '  Black  Horse.'  There  was  a  letter  for  him  that 
morning  from  Denham.  "  I  know  the  paper  and  the  crest 
stamped  outside,"  added  the  host ;  "  I  dare  say  he's  an 
electioneering  chap." 

Unconscious  of  these  comments  Lambert  rode  on,  with 
a  grey,  set  face,  and  firmly-closed  mouth.  The  letter  he 
had  received  that  morning  had  been  brief  : — "  I  will  hear 
what  you  have  to  say,  but  I  do  not  wish  a  criminal  to 
cross  my  threshold.  You  must  meet  me  by  the  Deer's 
Bam  in  the  Beech  Wood,  about  a  mile  from  the  village. 
Any  one  vnil  direct  you."  This  had  no  signature,  and 
was  addressed  to  "  Mr.  Smith."  Lambert  took  it  out  and 
read  it,  gnashing  his  teeth  as  he  did  so. 

"  The  insolent,  daring  villain,"  he  muttered  ;  "  can  I  do 
nothing  to  turn  his  flank?  If  he  had  a  gleam  of  con- 
science he  would  be  less  daringly  unscrupulous,  but  he 
hasn't  enough  to  make  a  coward  of  him.  Glynn  is  my 
best  card,  but  Deering  knows  his  strength ;  he  has  only 
to  lie  boldly,  and  I  am  at  his  mercy.  But  hell  never  get 
hold  of  her :  she  is  safe  from  him."  Then  his  thoughts 
wandered  away  to  a  bit  of  country  near  Mrs.  Kellett's 
home,  where  in  some  of  his  many  visits  to  his  darling 
daughter,  he  had  led  her  httle  Welsh  pony,  while  she 
talked  to  him  of  her  own  simple  fancies — of  her  dearly 
loved  pets,  of  the  wild  flowers,  and  birds,  and  insects,  all 
of  which  were  so  familiar  to  the  country-bred  child. 
What  a  foretaste  of  heaven  it  all  was !  No  soiled  sinner 
purified  by  purgatorial  fires  and  admitted  into  the  divine 
calm  of  celestial  joy  coi:dd  have  felt  more  keenly  the  sense 
of  regeneration  and  revival  than  the  poor  battered  wan- 
derer who  had  devoted  himself  to  the  care  of  his  enemy's 
orphan ;  and  now,  as  he  reflected  that  he  had  brought 
misfortune  to  the  creature  he  so  fondly  loved,  that  he  had 
unconsciously  put  her  and  himself  into  the  power  of  a 
bold  scoundrel,  his  heart  throbbed  with  fury  so  wild,  so 
OTerpowering,  that  he  was  almost  alarmed  at  himselt 


PAID  m  TULL.  177 

**  I  must  keep  my  brain  clear,"  he  muttered.  "  I  wish 
I  could  get  quit  of  tiiis  mad  desire  to  shoot  Deering, — it 
wouldn't  do, — it  wouldn't  do.  I  could  never  sti'oU 
through  cool  country  lanes  with  my  Elsie  again  ;  I  never 
could  stroke  her  bright  hair  with  tliis  right  hand  if  it  had 
committed  murder.  That  I  have  never  done.  No,  Deer- 
ing, you  infernal  Har,  never !  — only  in  fair  fight  have  I 
killed  my  man." 

He  stopped  with  an  odd  sense  of  confusion,  finding  that 
he  spoke  aloud.  His  horse  stumbling  at  the  same  time, 
the  current  of  his  thoughts  changed.  He  began  to  look 
fonvai'd.  Elsie  and  Glynn  were  mamed  ;  they  had  a 
beautiful  home  in  London,  and  he  (Lambert)  a  snug  little 
apartment  in  Paris — he  was  more  at  home  in  Paris — and 
they  visited  each  other.  Then  as  years  stole  on,  and  he 
didii't  care  to  move  about  much,  he  would  sit  in  his  chair, 
and  Elsie  would  soothe  him  with  her  heavenly  songs,  her 
dehcious  voice.  Ah  weU,  he  might  biing  Deering  to  rea- 
son ;  if  not,  well,  he  could  never  meet  Elsie's  eyes  when 
opened  to  the  knowledge  of  deeds  hidden  away  in  his  past 
hfe.  Anyhow  he  must  commit  no  act  of  violence;  this 
'  must  not '  but  thinly  veiled  a  strange  kind  of  conviction 
that  something  beyond  himself  would  compel  him  to  do  a 
desperate  deed. 

When  he  reached  the  very  humble  little  hostelrj'  dis- 
tinguished by  the  sign  of  the  '  Saracen's  Head,'  the  crest 
of  the  Deerings,  which  stood  beside  the  village  green  of 
Denham,  Lambert  was  cool  and  collected  enough.  He 
dismoimted,  and  desired  that  his  hoi-se  should  be  given  a 
feed  of  oats,  that  the  girths  should  be  loosened,  but  the 
saddle  was  not  to  be  removed,  "  for,"  said  he  very  deHber- 
ately,  "  I  want  to  finish  a  sketch  of  the  Deer's  Bam,  and 
get  back  to  catch  the  up-train  at  Earlshall  about  six,  so  I 
may  want  the  horse  all  in  a  hurry." 

So  saying,  he  walked  quietly  through  the  great  old 
wrought- iron  gates,  and  up  the  stately  avenue  for  a  few 
hundred  yards.  Then  striking  to  the  left,  he  quickened 
his  pace,  and  plunged  into  the  beautiful  woods  all  fiushed 
with  the  first  tender  green  of  spring,  trampling  down  the 
great  feathery  fronds  of  the  fern,  the  variously-tinted  leaf- 
age of  the  undergrowth,  till  he  reached  an  open  space,  from 
which  a  heath  and  fforae-grown  upland  sloped  gently 
13 


178  AT   BAT. 

towards  some  distant  hills.  And  all  these  grand  •woods, 
this  beautiful  sweep  of  hills,  these  groups  of  dappled  deer, 
that  murmuring  brown  stream,  the  solemn,  stately  beeches 
that  clustered  round  the  bam  which  stood  at  the  yerge  of 
the  deer-park, — all  these  were  Elsie's;  and  as  he  thought, 
Travers  Deei-ing  came  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  rough, 
picturesque  ediice  and  advanced  to  meet  him. 

The  two  men  came  face  to  face,  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the 
bam,  and  stood  in  silence  for  a  few  seconds,  eyeing  each 
other  with  deadly  hatred  ;  nor  was  the  gaze  of  the 
unscrupulous  villain  a  shade  less  steady  or  unflinching 
than  that  of  the  man  he  intended  to  make  his  victim. 

"  Pray  why  have  you  taken  the  trouble  to  come  down 
here,  when  you  "might  have  seen  me  in  town  next  week  ?  " 
asked  Deering  coolly. 

"  For  various  reasons,  chiefly  because  I  could  not  wait." 

"  Then  you  have  something  important,  something  favor- 
able for  yourself  to  propose.  First,  where  is  Elsie  ?  You 
know?" 

"I  do." 

"Is  she  in  England?" 

"No." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  where  she  is  ?  " 

"  I  wiU  further  on." 

"  Very  good.  Let  me  hear  what  you  have  to  say,"  taking 
out  a  cigar,  and  striking  a  fusee  he  lit  it  with  elaborate 
composure. 

"  I  succeeded  in  hiding  myself  and  my  chUd  from  you 
and  your  devihsh  designs,"  began  Lambert  in  a  voice  that 
vibrated  with  the  anger  he  could  hardly  control;  "  and  if  I 
had  not  been  struck  down  by  illness,  my  girl  and  I  would 
have  been  out  of  your  reach  at  the  other  side  of  the 
world.  However,  I  couldn't  carry  out  my  plans,  and  I 
know  one  cannot  keep  out  of  sight  forever,  so  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  see  if  we  can't  come  to  an  agreement.  Let 
us  go,  and  I'U  never  say  a  word  against  you,  or  meddle  in 
any  way." 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  for  yourself  ?  "  returned 
Deering  contemptuously.  "  I  thought  you  had  something 
new.'* 

"  So  I  have !  I  have  found  a  man  who  believes  my 
story,  and  he  is  a  backer  not  to  be  despised." 


PAID   m   FULL.  1Y9 

"And  lie  is?"  asked  Deering,  without  taJdng  bis  ctgar 
from  his  lips. 

"  Glynn  I     You  know  him." 

"  Hal  and  lie  believes  your  little  romance  ?  " — a  look  of 
concentrated  fmy  contracting  his  brow,  "  Satisfactory  to 
you  /  but  unfoi-tunately  men's  behefs  are  not  evidence. 
Now  I  have  positive  evidence." 

"  Deering ! — you  are  the  most  accursed  scoundrel  that 
ever  disgraced  God's  earth !  Were  it  not  for  my  child,  I'd 
gladly  pay  forfeit  with  my  Hfe  for  the  pleasure  of  killing 
you." 

"  I  dare  say !  Knowing  my  man,  I  am  not  such  a  block- 
head as  to  come  here  unarmed.,"  and  he  made  a  motion 
with  his  hand  to  his  breast-pocket. 

"  Good,"  cried  Lambert,  and  he  laughed  a  peculiar  wild 
laugh.  "  But  this  is  nonsense,"  he  resumed  ;  "  let  us  talk 
like  reasonable  beings.  Just  see  what  folly  it  is  to  throw 
away  fortune,  and  all  this  " — waving  his  hand  towards  the 
trees  and  upland — "for  what? — a  whim,  a  bit  of  revenge! 
When  you  have  destroyed  me,  and  planted  a  thorn  in 
Elsie's  heart  that'U  pierce  her  through  her  life  long — for 
you  can  do  that,  though  she's  beyond  your  power  to  hann 
more — ^how  wiU  you  lake  to  turn  out  of  this  grand  place, 
and  count  every  penny  in  your  pocket  ?  " 

"  I  don't  intend  to  do  either  ;  I  shall  be  rewarded  for 
my  disinterested  honesty  by  keeping  the  estate  for  my 
life.  My  son,  a  mere  helpless  cripple,  can  exist  on  a  trifle; 
my  lady  wife  is  only  half  alive  as  it  is,  and  probably  may 
resign  the  frail  half  she  possesses  before  long,  then  I  may 
marry  my  sweet  cousin,  and  aU  will  go  weU  and  happily 
when  we  have  hung  you,  you  blundering  blackguard  " — with 
a  sudden  flash  of  rage  and  hatred. 

"  Gently,"  said  Lambert,  thinking  the  moment  was  come 
to  play  his  trump  card.  "  Youll  not  be  able  to  carry  out 
your  neat  little  scheme.  My  Elsie  is  engaged  to  Glynn, 
and  will  be  his  wife  before  three  weeks  are  over.  She  is 
staying  with  Lady  Gethin  until  the  wedding  takes  place !  " 

Deering  was  moved  at  last ;  he  started  back. 

"  What  1  has  Glvnn  known  your  secret  during " 

"  The  last  montt,  and  more,"  interrupted  Lambert. 

"  And  Lady  Gethin? — is  she  equally  well  informed? " 

"Sheii," 


180  AT  BAT. 

Deering  grew  deadly  wliite ;  his  sharp,  CHiOi-lookmg 
teeth  pressed  his  under  Hp  for  a  moment  of  silence  before 
he  burst  out : — "  Infernal  idiot  1  you  have  driven  the  last 
naU  into  yoiir  own  coffin.  Elsie,  GljTin's  wife !  I'd  strangle 
her  with  my  own  hands  first !  You  have  left  me  no  alterna- 
tive. I  must  in  mere  self-defence  attack  you.  You  have 
shattered  your  own  safeguard !  If  you  have  told  Glynn 
and  that  sharp-tongued  old  woman,  I  must  not  keep  quiet 
any  longer.  Their  creduhty  does  not  weaken  my  position; 
it  is  impregnable,  if  I  have  pluck  enough  to  stand  to  my 
guns,  which  I  have  !  You  have  left  me  nothing  but  revenge, 
and  I'll  have  thai.  Who  will  beHeve  a  word  you  utter  ? 
rU  make  your  visit  here  the  starting-point  of  my  accusa- 
tion. You  have  come  to  extract  money!  and  threaten  me 
with  the  claims  of  Gilbert  Deering' s  daughter.  I,  having 
always  suspected  you,  and  having  recently  met  Vincent 
and  heard  his  story,  I  lay  the  matter  before  a  magistrate, 
both  to  obtaia  and  bestow  justice.  Then  let  Glynn  many 
the  protegee  of  a  disgraced,  detected  criminal  if  he  wiU, 
nothing  shaU  save  you  from  appearing  in  Elsie's  eyes  as 
the  murderer  of  her  own  father,  the  destroyer  of  her  hfe. 
There !  I  tell  you  my  plan  ;  repeat  it  or  not  as  you 
choose.  Your  words,  your  story,  your  very  existence  are 
in  vain.  I  have  but  to  be  firm,  and  you  go  to  a  dishonored 
grave,  followed  by  the  horror  and  disgust  of  the  creature 
on  whom  you  spent  your  life! — ay!  who,  rejected  by 
Glynn,  will  yet  be  mine." 

Lambert  had  listened  with  a  wild  minghng  of  fury  and 
despair.  He  gazed  at  Deering  to  see  if  there  was  any 
sign  of  faltering,  of  hesitation,  but  the  leader  of  the 
rebel  angels  himself  could  not  have  looked  more  deter- 
mined to  "make  evil  his  good."  Contempt  as  well  as 
hatred  gleamed  from  his  fierce  Ught  eyes,  a  sudden  sense 
that  all  hope  was  over,  that  a  dark  cloud  streaked  with 
blood  was  already  rising  between  him  and  his  darhng, 
his  jewel,  pressed  with  maddening  force  upon  Lambert. 

Deering  misunderstood  his  momentaiy  stunned  silence, 
and  added  with  a  sneer:  "  I  am  master  of  your  fate.  Find 
a  way  out  of  the  dilemma  if  you  can." 
'  "  There  is  one  way  left,"  cried  Lambert  hoarsely  ;  and 
snatching  a  revolver  from  his  breast-pocket,  he  fired  almost 
before  he  ceaaed  to  speaL 


PAID  IN  PtTLL.  181 

The  ball  pierced  Deering's  right  temple.  With  a  groan 
he  fell  to  the  groimd,  dead,  helpless,  harmless ! 

Lambert  stood  quite  still  for  an  instant,  his  pistol  stiU 
held  out,  waiting  lest  Deering  might  rise  and  attack  him, 
but  his  enemy  was  quieted  forever.  Lambert  then  put 
up  his  own  weapon  carefully,  and  bending  over  the 
prostrate  form,  took  out  the  pocket-revolver  to  which 
Deering  had  alluded.  Examining  it  he  found  the  six 
chambers  loaded,  then  aiming  low  into  the  brushwood, 
he  discharged  one  of  them,  and  laid  the  pistol  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  dead  man's  outstretched  right  arm,  as 
though  it  had  fallen  from  his  hand  :  all  this  with  singular 
mechanical  dehberateness.  Then  he  turned  and  walked 
briskly,  not  hurriedly,  back  to  the  little  inn. 

A  great  deadly  calm  had  fallen  upon  him.  There  was 
no  more  danger  from  Deering,  nothing  to  fear  from  his 
vile  projects  ;  but  he,  Lambert,  had  died  too,  he  had  done 
that  of  which  he  dreaded  being  falsely  accused.  He  had 
done  with  Hfe,  but  at  least  he  had  cleared  a  venomous 
beast  out  of  his  darling's  path ;  nothing  now  remained 
but  to  efface  himself. 

"  None  will  ever  know  the  exact  truth,  and  mj'  jewel 
will  always  beheve  the  best  of  me  ;  time  will  heal  up  her 
wounds,  ay,  soon,  soon."  He  j)aused  and  looked  round 
him.  How  beautiful  the  country  looked  ;  how  sweet  the 
air,  laden  with  the  odor  of  violets  and  fresh  grass !  He 
had  loved  life,  and  enjoyed  it,  and  done  his  best  in  his 
own  rough  way,  and  now  he  firmly  beheved  he  was  doing 
his  best  still.  No  horror  at  liis  own  act  thrilled  him  ;  he 
had  but  executed  wild  justice.  His  thoughts  grew 
strangely  confused.  He  fancied  at  inter.'als  he  was  going 
back  to  Paris  to  his  little  home  there,  and  that  he  would 
find  Elsie  at  the  piano,  and  Madame  Weber  knitting. 
Then  he  would  puU  himself  together,  and  think  hard  of  a 
certain  plan  he  was  trying  to  mature. 

Reaching  the  Httle  inn  he  called  for  his  horse,  and 
asked  for  a  glass  of  ale. 

"  You'll  have  to  ride  sharp,"  said  the  landlord,  as  Lam- 
bert paid  his  biU.  "  I  thought  you  wouldn't  be  back  in 
time ;  that's  what  you  artist  gentlemen  don't  think  of. 
We've  lots  of  'em  sketching  about  Denham  woods  in 
Bummer-time." 


182  AT  BAT. 

"  Ah !  few  have  done  so  complete  a  bit  of  work  as  I 
have,"  returned  Lambert  grimly,  as  he  started  at  a  quick 
trot. 

His  horse  was  fresh  and  free,  and  did  the  distance  to 
Earlshall  within  the  time  allowed  by  his  rider.  The  hostler 
remarked  that  the  gentleman  must  have  been  took  iU  or 
summat,  he  had  such  a  ghastly,  dazed  look  in  his  face. 
*'  Anyway,  he  did  not  forget  to  tip  me  handsome  afore  he 
ran  off  to  catch  the  train," 

Meantime  the  first  and  second  dressing-bells  rang  in 
Denham  House,  but  the  master  did  not  come  in  from  the 
walk  he  had  evidently  prolonged.  Weldon  had  come 
over  to  dine  and  discuss  business  with  his  employer,  and 
endeavored  to  keep  up  a  conversation  with  Lady  Frances, 
sitting  in  state  in  the  grand  solemn  drawing-room.  The 
dinner-hour  was  long  past,  and  Lady  Frances  grew  un- 
easy. Deering's  valet  was  called,  but  could  give  no  ex- 
planation of  his  master's  absence.  Night  closed  in  while 
search  was  being  made,  and  then  a  cold  and  rigid  figure, 
that  a  few  hours  ago  was  the  lord  and  master  of  Denham, 
was  brought  reverently  back,  carried  by  the  gamekeepers 
and  gardeners,  and  followed  by  the  awe-struck  men  who 
had  assisted  in  the  search.  The  revolver,  which  had  ap- 
parently faUen  from  his  hand,  was  recognized  by  the 
vaiet  as  belonging  to  liis  master  ;  indeed  he  saw  it  in  its 
accustomed  place  that  very  morning.  Yet  neither  Lacly 
I'rances  or  Weldon  could  accept  the  idea  of  suicide.  Ha 
was  so  active,  so  full  of  schemes,  so  instinct  with  life. 
But  there  was  the  incontrovertible  fact — Deering  of 
Denham  was  no  more,  and  Bertie  his  son  reigned  in  his 
stead. 

Away  by  the  beautiful  shores  of  Lake  Leman  Elsie 
Lambert  enjoyed  a  growing  sense  of  secvuity.  Lady 
Gethin  was  a  strong  protectress.  Lambert  wrote  cheer- 
fully, and  seemed  to  enjoy  his  visit  to  Glynn  ;  and  the 
latter's  frequent  letters  were  an  ever-increasing  source  of 
delight,  while  it  was  an  ennobling  education,  in  Elsie's 
estimation,  to  answer  them.  With  Lady  Gethin  slie 
grew  in  favor  day  by  day  ;  her  thoughtful  softness,  her 
delight  in  learning,  and  her  delicious  voice  charmed  the 


PAID   IN    FULL.  185 

somewhat  exigeant  dowager.  Again  and  again  she  vowed 
to  herself  that  she  would  never  rest  tiU  she  had  won  back 
that  dear  girl's  rights,  and  exposed  Deering.  "  I  believe 
every  word  that  good  soul  Lambert  says,"  was  the  gen- 
eral climax  of  her  meditations. 

Lady  Gethin  was  pondering  these  things  one  day  as 
she  sat,  after  luncheon,  on  the  dehghtful  balcony  of  their 
hotel  overlooking  the  lake. 

She  had  begun  to  speculate  when  Glynn  would  join 
them,  and  what  prehminary  arrangements  would  be  nec- 
essary previous  to  the  wedding,  which  she  hoped  would 
soon  take  place.  The  approach  of  a  waiter  disturbed 
her.  He  brought  a  telegram.  It  was  from  Glynn. 
"Keep  aU  newspapers,  especially  English  ones,  from 
Elsie  ;  will  be  with  you  on  Wednesday." 

"There  is  something  dreadfully  wrong,"  said  Lady 
Gethin  to  herself,  "  and  the  wrong  is  with  Lambert.  I 
trust  the  poor  man's  head  hasn't  turned  with  all  his  trou- 
bles. I  hope  Hugh  will  write.  This  is  Saturday  :  one, 
two,  three  days  to  wait  and  hold  my  tongue.  Why,  it  is 
more  than  human  nature  can  endure," 

But  though  carefully  keeping  the  papers  from  her  young 
protegee,  no  very  difficult  task,  Lady  Gethin  searched  them 
diligently  herself,  and  soon  found  the  word  of  the  riddle, 
first  in  a  column  headed  "  Mysterious  Death  of  Mr.  Peer- 
ing of  Denham,"  followed  by  all  particulars,  and  an  ac- 
count of  the  stranger  artist,  who  had  been  sketching  in 
Denham  woods,  and  had,  according  to  the  evidence  of  the 
hotel-keeper  at  Earlshall,  received  a  letter  with  the  Peer- 
ing crest  the  day  previous  to  the  fatal  event. 

In  another  column  was  an  account  of  a  robbery  and 
murder  in  a  railway-carriage  between  York  and  London. 
On  reaching  an  intermediate  station,  one  of  the  carriages 
of  the  up-train  was  found  open  and  emptj^,  the  door  swing- 
ing to  and  fro,  while  the  cushion  beside  it  was  smeared  as 
if  something  bleeding  had  knocked  against  it.  The  carpet 
was  displaced,  and  some  sovereigns  and  loose  silver  scat- 
tered about. 

On  search  being  made,  the  T)ody  of  a  middle-aged  man, 
well  dressed,  and  apparently  in  good  circumstances,  was 
found  lying  beside  the  rails  some  miles  back,  his  head 
and  face  shattered,  his  pockets  turned  inside  out,  and  at  a 


184  a.T   BAT. 

little  distance  lay  an  American  revolver.  His  purse  was 
gone,  but  a  valuable  watch  was  still  in  Ms  pocket,  and  an 
old  envelope,  with  an  American  stamp,  addressed,  "  M. 
Lambert,  Rue  de  L'eveque,  Paris,"  was  the  only  clue  to 
his  identity. 

After  reading  these  ghastly  details,  Lady  Gethin  spent 
an  anxious  and  miserable  time  ilntil  Glynn  appeared.  He 
had  sent  a  hasty  line  to  Elsie,  to  say  he  was  trying  to  clear 
away  an  accumulation  of  business  in  order  to  be  with  her 
on  Wednesday. 

"  I  suppose  my  father  will  come  with  him  ?  It  is  strange 
he  does  not  mention  him.  Nor  has  my  father  written  for 
several  days,"  said  Elsie. 

"  Oh !  Hugh  will  explain  everything  when  he  comes," 
replied  Lady  Gethin  ;  who  immediately  after  declared  she 
had  a  sick  headache,  and  retired  to  bed,  to  avoid  the  dis- 
tressing sight  of  Elsie's  unconscious  content. 

Lady  Gethin  contrived  to  impress  Elsie  with  the  idea 
that  Glynn  would  not  arrive  tiU  late  in  the  evening,  and  so 
managed  to  secure  a  short  interview  with  him  before  he 
went  in  to  break  his  sad  news  to  the  orphan. 

He  looked  ill  and  worn. 

"  Oh,  Hugh !  what  an  awful  business,"  exclaimed  Lady 
Gethin. 

"A  profound  tragedy,"  he  returned.  "To  you  I  may 
venture  to  confess  my  belief  that  Lambert  first  shot 
Deering  and  then  blew  his  own  brains  out  He  couldn't 
have  been  recognized,  poor  fellow!  His  head  was  so 
shattered,  and  the  curious  thing  is,  he  had  on  different 
clothes  from  any  I  had  ever  seen  him  in.  I  suspect  he 
bought  them  somewhere  between  Earlshall  and  London. 
It  was  the  day  after  Deering's  murder  Lambert  destroyed 
himself.  I  have  been  expecting  every  day  to  find  that  he 
has  been  identified  in  some  way  with  the  artist  who  spent 
a  couple  of  days  sketching  at  Denham.  Of  course  the 
watch  and  a  ring,  and  the  man's  figure  generally,  were 
enough  for  me.  /  knew  who  he  was  fast  enough.  I 
attended  the  examination,  and  gave  my  evidence  frankly. 
Nothing  was  said  about  Deering.  Now  let  me  go  to  Elsie ! 
I  both  long  and  dread  to  see  her." 

Lady  Gethin  led  him  up-stairs  to  their  private  sitting- 


PAID   m   FITLL.  185 

room,  and  said,  "  Elsie  dear,  here  is  Hugh  sooner  than  w« 
expected  him,"  and  discreetly  closed  the  door. 

Glynn  paused  just  within  it,  and  gave  himself  one  mo- 
ment of  deUghted  contemplation,  as  Elsie  sprang  forward 
to  greet  him.  She  wore  a  dress  of  soft  grey,  and  a  deep 
red  rose,  with  its  green  leaves,  at  her  throat.  The  evening  • 
sun  lit  up  the  golden  sheen  of  her  hair  ;  she  had  color  in 
her  cheek  ;  the  Ught  of  joy  in  her  eyes  ;  and  he  had  come 
to  darken  aU. 

"  Oh !  you  have  come  at  last ! "  she  cried,  forgetting  for 
one  brief  moment  even  her  father. 

"  My  Elsie,  my  love,  my  Hf  e ! "  he  exclaimed,  clasping 
her  closely  to  him,  while  his  heart  throbbed  with  sympathy 
and  sorrow.  At  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  drew  back  and 
looked  intently  in  his  face.  "  Ah !  you  have  brought  bad 
news.  My  father— he  is  ill  ? — ^he  is  dead?  "  A  short,  breath- 
less pause  between  each  question. 

"He  is,"  returned  Grlynn,  solemnly  gathering  her  again 
to  his  heart.  "  He  is  at  peace,  and  I  must  be  husband  and 
father  both  to  you,  my  darling." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  not  dead ! "  she  cried  piteously.  "  I  may 
see  him  once  more.  He  will  speak  to  me  again.  Take  me 
to  him,  dear  Hugh ! "  Breaking  away  from  him :  "  Let  us 
go  at  once." 

"  It  would  be  of  no  avail,  dearest ! — ^you  could  not  even 
recognize  him ! " 

"  How !  why !  Why  did  you  not  send  for  me  when  he 
was  ill  ?  " 

"  But  he  was  not  ill,  darling !  He  was  killed  on  the 
railway  ;  he  must  have  leant  against  the  door  of  the  car- 
riage, and  it  probably  flew  open.  He  fell,  and  it  is  sup- 
posed was  instantaneously  killed." 

"  Shall  I  never,  never  see  him  again  ?    It  is  too  cruel  1 " 
She  wrung  her  hands  and  looked  despairingly  round  her  ; 
then  with  a  sharp  cry  threw  herself  into  his  arms,  and  an 
agony  of  tears  came  to  her  relief. 
^        .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

With  infinite  care  and  tenderness  Glynn  soothed  the 
poignancy  of  her  first  grief,  and  soon  persuaded  her  she 
could  show  no  better  respect  for  the  dear  dead  than  by 
fulfilling  engagements  to  which  he  had  agreed.    Some 


V^^  AT  BAY. 

months  later,  therefore,  a  very  quiet  wedding  took  place 
at  Lady  Gethin's  residence.  Glynn's  clerical  cousin  from 
Clapham  and  the  faithful  Mrs.  Kellett  were  the  only 
guests,  and  gradually  time  and  tranquillity  healed  the 
wound  which  death  had  inflicted. 

But  Lambert  hved  ever  tenderly  cherished  in  his 
daughter's  memory,  and  Glynn  found  that  the  best  com- 
fort he  could  give  his  young  wife  was  by  describing  the 
cheerfulness  and  returning  sense  of  enjoyment  displayed 
by  her  father  during  the  time  he  spent  with  his  intended 
Bon-in-law.  The  mortal  agony  that  darkened  his  last 
hours  she  never  knew.  Even  when  in  the  course  of  time 
she  was  obliged  to  believe  she  was  not  his  daughter,  her 
sense  of  loving  gratitude  was  only  deepened  and  exalted. 

Ten  years  later.  Scene  :  a  reception  at  Lady  Frances 
Verner's.  Speakers  :  a  well-known  dowager  and  a  nephew 
just  returned  from  India,  whom  she  is  lionizing. 

"  Yes  ;  Lady  Frances  is  very  handsome,  and  has  a  good 
deal  of  quiet  animation.  She  was  the  widow  of  that  poor 
Deering  of  Denham,  wiii^  aiioz  nimself  some  years  ago. 
That  stout,  broad-shovildered  man  with  the  blue  ribbon 
is  Admiral  Verner,  and  the  pale,  delicate-looking  lad — 
talking  to  Madame  Konika,  the  great  violinist — is  young 
Deering,  who  writes  such  beautiful  poetry." 

"  Who  is  that  distinguished-looking  woman — the  smaller 
of  the  two  talking  to  Admiral  Verner?  She  has  such  a 
sweet,  pensive  face,  and  great  blue  eyes." 
*''  "  Oh,  you  mean  Mrs.  Glynn.  She  is  greatly  admired 
by  artists  and  those  soi-t  of  people,  and  has  such  a  roman- 
tic history.  Her  father  was  murdered  by  the  Indians  or 
the  Kaffirs  ;  she  was  saved  by  a  Yankee  gold-digger.  He 
brought  her  up  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  among  an  awfully 
lawless  set  of  men.  Then  he  took  her  to  Paris,  and  I 
believe  she  was  to  come  out  as  the  daughter  of  the  Incas, 
in  a  ballet  or  some  such  thing,  when  Glynn  saw  her  and 
married  her,  which  seemed  rather  idiotic.  However,  old 
Lady  Gethin  recognized  her  remarkable  Ukeness  to  a  dear 
friend  who  married  Gilbert  Deering,  and  whose  daughter 
she  proved  to  be.  Then  they  found  the  nurse  to  whom 
the  Yankee  had  given  her,  so  the  Deerings  thought  it 


PAID   IN    FULL.  1S7 

better  to  come  to  an  amicable  settlement.  Lady  Frances 
keeps  her  dower,  and  young  Deering  the  estates  for  his 
life  ;  but  this  charming  Mrs.  Glynn,  or  her  son,  will  suc- 
ceed him.  They  are  great  friends.  What  splendid  dia- 
monds she  has ! " 

"Well!"  exclaimed  the  Indian  nephew,  "truth  really 
Is  stranger  than  fiction." 


«:|^  jiS» 


Ve  Are  tht  Sole  Pribllahera  of  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox'a  Booltt 

The  Poetical  and  Prose  Works  of 

ELLA   WHEELER  WILCOX 

Urs.  Wilcox's  writings  bare  been  the  inspiration  of  many  young 
men  and  women.  Eer  hopeful,  practical,  masterful  views  of  life 
give  the  reader  ncv  courage  in  the  very  reading  and  are  a  wholesome 
spur  to  flagging  effort.  Words  of  truth  so  vital  that  they  live  in  the 
reader's  memory  and  canso  bias  to  think— to  bis  ovm  betterment  and 
the  lasting  improvement  of  his  own  work  in  the  world,  in  whatever 
line  it  lies— flow  from  this  talented  woman's  pen. 

MAURINE 

Is  a  love  story  told  in  exquisite  verse.  "An  ideal  poem  about 
as  true  and  lovable  a  woman  as  ever  poet  created."  It  has 
repeatedly  been  compared  with  Owen  Meredith's  Lucile.  In 
point  of  human  interest  it  excels  that  noted  story. 

"Maurine"  is  issued  in  an  edition  deluxe,  where  th*  more 
important  incidents  of  the  story  are  portrayed  by  means  of 
photographic  studies  from  life. 

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De  Luxe  New  Illustrated  Edition,  white  vellum,  gold  top,  2.00 

POEMS  OF  POWER.. 

New  and  revised  edition.  This  beautiful  volume  contains 
more  than  one  hundred  new  foems,  displaying  this  popular 
poet's  well-known  taste,  cultivation,  and  originality.  The 
author  says:  "The final  word  in  the  title  of  the  volume  refers 
to  the  Divine  power  in  every  human  being,  the  recognition  of 
which  is  the  secret  of  all  success  and  happiness.  It  is  this 
idea  which  many  of  the  verses  endeavor  to  inculcate  and  to 
illustrate." 

"The  lines  of  Mrs.  Wilcox  show  both  sweetness  and 
stv^nzXh.."— Chicago  American.  "Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox  has  a 
stroi-g  grip  upon  the  affections  of  thousands  all  over  the 
world.  Her  productions  are  read  to-day  just  as  eagerly  as 
they  were  when  her  fame  was  new,  no  other  divinity  having 
yet  risen  to  take  her  place."— CAiVofo  Record-Herald. 

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De  Luxe  Edition,  white  \ellum,  gold  top 1.60 

THREE  WOMEN,     a  story  in  verse. 

'Three  Women  is  the  best  thing  I  have  ever  done."— £^ 
Wheeler  Wilcox. 

This  marvelous  dramatic  poem  will  compel  instant  praise 
■because  it  touches  every  note  in  the  scale  of  human  emo- 
tion. It  is  intensely  interesting,  and  will  be  read  with  sincere 
relish  and  admiration. 

Eresentation  Edition.  12mo.  light  red  cloth .'.lil.OO 
«  Luxe  Edition,  white  vellum,  gold  top 1,60. 


POEMS  OF  PLEASURE. 

Many  of  the  best  poetic  creations  of  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcat 
are  to  be  found  in  this  charming:  collection.  Besides  many 
admirable  specimens  of  romantic   verse,  there  are  several 

F)oems  of  rare  beauty,  dealing  with  every-day  topics.    Fverj 
ine  of  these  poems  pulsates  with  life  and  throbs  with  emotior? 

"Mrs.  Wilcox  is  an  artist  with  a  touch  that  reminds  one 
of  Byron's  impassionate  straitis."— Paris  Eeeister. 

"Everything  that  she  writes  has  the  mark  of  her  unique, 
powerful  personality  impressed  upon  it,  and  this  volume  will 
not  be  a  disappointment  to  those  acquainted  with  her."— 
New  York  Press. 

"The  book  is  replete  with  good  things  and,  though  a  book 
of  fewer  than  two  hundred  pages,  it  is  worth  whole  reams 
of  the  sentimentallsm  flourishing  under  the  misnomer  of  liter- 
ature."—M^«^^r«  Bookseller. 

"Mrs.  Wilcox  takes  her  raptures  with  a  full  heart,  revel- 
ing in  blisses  and  draining  sorrows  deeply;  not  morbidly  but 
hopefully.  Skeptic  as  she  is  of  all  formal  creeds,  she  does 
not  become  cynical  or  pessimistic,  but  makes  a  glad  religion 
out  of  evolution  and  human  fellowship."— iVew  York  Daily 
News. 

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POEMS  OF  PASSION. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox  is  known  as  the  greatest  Hvlne  poet 
of  passion.  To  her  the  human  heart  seems  to  have  revealed 
its  mysteries,  for  she  has  the  power  to  picture  love  in  all  its 
moods  and  variations  as  no  other  has  done  since  Byron. 

"Only  a  woman  of  genius  could  produce  such  a  remark- 
able work." — Illustrated  London  News. 

Beside  many  others,  there  are  some  fifty  poems  which 
treat  entirely  of  that  emotion  which  has  been  denominated 
"the  grand  passion"— love.  Among  the  most  popular  poems 
in  the  book  ave  Delilah,  Ad  Pinem,  Conversion,  and  Communism. 
These  vibrant  poems  have  attained  a  reputation  that  is  above 
and  beyond  criticism. 

7^^'' "^"'^  "s  a  household  word.  Her  great  power  lies  in 
depicting  human  emotions;  and  in  handling  that  grandest  of 
all  passions— love,  she  wields  the  pen  of  a  m&stei."— Saturday 
Record. 

Many  thousands  of  the  book  have  been  issued  in  the  plain 
edition.  The  author's  numerous  admirers  called  for  a  de  luxe 
impression,  and  in  the  New  Illustrated  Edition  the  demand 
;s  met  by  a 

3EAUTIFLLL  Y PRODUCED  AND  CHARMmL  Y EMBELLISHED  EDITION 

certain  to  satisfy  the  most  fastidious  taste.    In  its  new  form, 
the  book  is  sure  to  find  additional  favor. 

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EVERY-DAY  THOUGHTS— In  Prose 
and  Verse. 

Her  latest,  largest,  and  grea lest  prose  work.  This  brillias*^ 
work  consists  of  a  series  of  forceful,  logical,  and  fascinating 
"talks"  to  every  member  of  the  household,  in  which  the 
author  fearlessly,  but  with  delicacy,  discusses  every-day  sub- 
jects, and  directs  attention  to  thosg  evils  which  menace  the 
peace  and  safety  of  the  home,  "tvery-dau  Thoughts"  is  not  a 
mere  book  of  advice,  neither  does  it  attempt  to  preach,  but  it 
contains  more  good  counsel  and  wholesome  moral  lessons 
than  are  to  be  found  in  the  average  sermon. 

"These  thoughts,  lofty  and  uplifting,  are  stated  with  viril- 
ity, both  in  prose  and  verse.  The  noble  sentiments  expressed 
in  this  volume  will  widen  the  circle  of  her  admirers."— JiocAes- 
ter  'limes. 

"Few  people  are  so  good  as  not  to  be  made  better  by  a  stu- 
dious perusal  of  this  useful  and  Interesting  book,  which  is,  in 
brief,  a  short  and  vigorous  dissertation  on  moral  conduct  and  the 
springs  of  right  living.  Mrs.  Wilcox's  latest  publication  is  a 
worthy  addition  to  the  best  works  of  moral  philosophy  and  her 
treatise  deserves  wide  reading." — New  York  Daily  News. 

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KINGDOM  OF  LOVE,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

i4  magnificent  collection  of  poems  suitable  for  recitations  andrtad- 
lags,  true  to  the  very  best  there  is  in  human  nature. 

In  the  preface  to  this  collection,  the  author  says:  "I  am 
constantly  urged  by  readers  and  impersonators  to  furnish 
them  with  verses  for  recitation.  In  response  to  this  ever- 
increasing  demand.  I  have  selected  for  this  volume  the  poems 
which  seem  suitable  for  such  a  purpose.  In  making  my  col- 
lection of  them,  I  have  been  obliged  to  use,  not  those  which 
are  among  my  best  efforts  in  a  literary  or  artistic  sense,  but 
those  which  contain  the  best  dramatic  possibilities  for  profes- 
sionals." 

"Her  fame  has  reached  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  her  pop- 
ularity seems  to  grow  with  each  succeeding  year," — American 
Bookseller. 

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DeLuxe  Edition,  white  vellum,  gold  top 1.60 

AN  AMBITIOUS  MAN— Prose. 

A  realistic  novel  of  the  modern  school  of  fiction.  Although 
the  plot  borders  on  the  sensational,  the  motive  of  the  story  is 
a.good  one.  It  teaches  that  hereditary  tendencies  can  be 
overcome;  that  one  can  conquer  passion  and  impulse  by  the 
use  of  the  Divine  inheritance  of  Will,  and  compel  public  re- 
spect by  lofty  ideals;  in  other  words,  that  one  may  rise  on  the 
"stepping-stones  of  a  dead  self  to  higher  things."  Mrs.  Wilcox 
is  a  successful  novel  writer  as  well  as  a  poet,  and  this  story 
is  another  evidence  of  her  wide  range  of  thought.  "In  'An 
Ambitious  Man'  the  central  figure  is  a  woman,  who  becomes 
chastened  through  suffering  and  purified  through  sin." 

"Vivid  realism  stands  forth  from  every  page  of  this  fasci- 
nating and  interesting  hoo]x.."— Every  Day. 
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AN  ERRING  WOMAN'S  LOVE. 

There  is  always  a  fascination  inMrs.  Wilcox's  verse,  but  in 
these  beautiful  examples  of  her  genius  she  shows  a  wonderful 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart.  _  , „„_„^„  „^ 

"Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox  has  impressed  niany  tho-.aands  of 
people  with  thi  extreme  beauty  of  her  philosophy  and  the 
exceedine  usefulness  of  her  point  of  view.  -i^P^ ton  Globe. 

"Mrs  Wilcox  stands  at  the  head  of  feminine  writers,  and 
her  verses  and  essays  are  more  widely  copied  and  read  than 
those  of  any  other  American  literary  woman.  -Ntw  York 
w!rld  "Power  and  pathos  characterize  this  magnificent 
poem  A  dee  ^understanding  of  life  and  an  intense  sympathy 
are  beautifully  expressed. "-CAjccf^  rrtbune. 

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De  Luxe  Edition,  white  vellum,  gold  top ^-^ 

MEN,  WOMEN  AND  EMOTIONS. 

A  skilful  analysis  of  social  habits,  customs  and  follies.  A 
common-sense  view  of  life  from  its  varied  standpoints.  . . .  full 

°^  ^"ThMe  essays  tend  to  meet  difficulties  that  arise  In  almost 
everv  lif"  Full  of  sound  and  helpful  admonition,  and  is 

Iu?e  to  assi'st  in  smoothing  the  rough  ways  of  life  wherever  it 
be  read  and  heeded. ' '-Pittsburs  limes. 

12mo.  heavy  enameled  paper. ......  • .  -  •  • 1  00 

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THE  BEAUTIFUL  LAND  OF  NOD. 

A  rnllection  of  Doems.  songs,  stories,  and  allegories  dealing 
witi^child  life     The  work  is  prof usely  illustrated  with  dainty 

•'"^-.^-frau'/hrof  te°ufstSfthe?o'r'?most  baby's  book  in 
the  world. ••-A'.  O.  Picayune.  ^ 

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W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY. 


Hammond^  Indiana 


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